Not a Pretender
by Molly Morrison
Summary: Another child has been kidnapped by the Centre... Who is she and why do they want her?
1. Part 1

My older sister is very smart. She went to a special school because she is so smart. But even that was easy for her. She began working with a tutor who pushed her to reach her potential. She came home smiling every day, and my parents and I were happy for her. Not that I was consulted. Who consults a 4-year-old? I had never even met the man.  
  
Until today. He came home to work with her today. They went into the study, but I know all the secrets in this house, so I peek in and watch. What I see makes me feel queasy.  
  
You see, my parents don't know, but my sister isn't the only one who's special. I have the "gift" of being able to see what people's body language means. As I've grown up, my understanding of people has only grown. Not that I can tell why people are going to do things, but I can tell what they are planning. Anyway, I've learned enough by now that just by looking at him, he might as well be pontificating on his malevolent intentions.  
  
At least he doesn't plan to act on his plans today. But just the fact that he's at our house tells me that he's planning to act soon.  
  
I wait for a while, until they take a break, then I scamper around to make certain that he doesn't go anywhere. When he comes toward my sister's bedroom, I know I am right. I play with a toy in the hallway, waiting for him to come nearer.  
  
He is about to pass me when I look up at him with the innocent glance of a 4-year-old. With a shy smile, I say, "Hi."  
  
The man smiles gently to me, but I can see the glint in his eyes that betrays that he is not half so nice. "Hello, what is your name?" he asks.  
  
I glance down to the toy that I am still fiddling with. "Janie..." I answer quietly.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Janie," he says with a smile intended to be comforting. I imagine I can see sharp teeth filling his mouth. He begins to continue down the hall, and in my childish voice I ask innocently, "Where are you going?"  
  
He looks back at me in surprise, but he is ready with a cover story. "I'm just trying to find the bathroom." He tries to project uncertainty, but I can see he is proud of his professionalism.  
  
I point in the other direction. "That way, " I tell him, and glance down again. Then, shyly, I inform him, "That's my room," pointing in the direction he was heading. It's a lie, but it will protect my sister. He wants to kidnap her.  
  
The disaster has been temporarily averted, and he soon leaves. I dread what I have to tell my sister. She's only six, she doesn't deserve this.  
  
That night, I sneak into Amy's room. "Amy!" I call in a harsh whisper that I am certain will wake her. "Wake up!"  
  
Amy sits up quickly. This is not the first time I have woken her, and I always have something urgent to tell her. Groggily, Amy asks, "What?"  
  
I start to cry softly. I don't want to tell her this. Amy reaches over and envelopes me in a hug, which only makes me cry harder. "What's wrong, Janie?"  
  
"The man... the man..." I whisper through the tears, but I can't seem to finish my sentence.  
  
"The man? You mean Jeffrey?" I nod, and after a pause, she asks, "Janie, tell me, what's wrong?"  
  
"He... he... he wants to take you!" I finally get out.  
  
"Take me? What are you talking about?"  
  
Now I have to explain. The tears still streaming down my face, I manage, "You're smart... he's going to kidnap you!"  
  
"How do you--" she stops herself, because she knows the answer. I have been right before, and she trusts me. "Wh--how long?" she finally manages.  
  
This is the part I hate. "Soon. Almost certainly within two days." I pause, then speak aloud what I can see she's thinking. "You have to go before he comes for you!"  
  
She nods, and I can see she's terrified. I can't think of anything comforting to say, though, so I just tell her what I know. She needs every bit of information she can get. Finally, she tells me to go to sleep, and I scurry to my room. I cry myself to sleep, trying not to think about the morning.  
  
It is every bit as bad as I expected. I awake to my mom yelling, "Amy?" There is a pause, and then she yells, "Fred?"  
  
My dad answers. "What, Martha?"  
  
The voices get quieter as they get closer. "Have you seen Amy this morning?" "No, why do you ask?" "I can't find her..."  
  
I will myself not to cry. How could I explain my tear-stained face when they haven't even discovered the awful truth yet? Right now, I must play my part as the bleary-eyed younger sister wondering what is going on.  
  
I play the part perfectly, portraying my bewilderment and then staying out of the way while their panic sets in. I fiddle with a wooden block, and "A" that I keep glancing at. I wonder how far away Amy is by now. She was taking the bus or train, having taken some money that my parents wouldn't miss. I hope that she is safe.  
  
The morning passes slowly like this, with my parents calling everyone they know and asking if they have seen Amy. Then the doorbell rings. My parents run to the door, and I follow even though I know that it is not Amy.  
  
It is Jeffrey, her tutor. I had been expecting him. In muffled tones, my parents tell him that my sister is missing. Then he makes an offer that scares me quite badly. "I'm so sorry to hear that. If you'd like, I'll watch Janie and you can go and search the neighborhood without worrying about her. I'm sure that Amy is not far away."  
  
My parents hardly consider this before they nod. "Thank you so much, Jeffrey."  
  
"Oh, it's no problem," he tells them with a smile, which with his body language seems to me to be the most menacing I have ever seen.  
  
So my parents leave, and I am left with the man who was planning to kidnap my sister in less than two days time. I continue to turn the block in my hands and glance up at him shyly, still forcing myself to play my part.  
  
He walks over and holds out his hand. "Come on, Janie. Let's go play some games." He has not yet set down his briefcase, and I know what is coming.  
  
He gives me many puzzles, and I merely smash them or put them in silly patterns. No normal 4-year-old could put these together, and for today that is what I am. He begins to get annoyed, but I will not help him.  
  
"Do you know the colors?" he finally asks me. I nod, because I can't pretend to be THAT stupid. Obviously I am at least a normal 4-year-old in terms of cognitive skills. He begins to show me cards with colors on them. At first they are shapes, and he tells me to "point to the red one" or "tell me the first three colors." Then he springs a card on me that has the colors on it, but it is words written in different colors. "red" is written in blue and I begin to stumble. I can see that this was a trick. He knows how smart I am.  
  
"Mister, I need to go," I tell him, standing and performing the familiar dance of all children when they realize that they need to go to the bathroom. He of course nods that I can go, and I run awkwardly to the bathroom.  
  
I close the door, but then open it slowly. I will leave out the back door before he even   
notices that I am gone. I creep down the hall, but as I reach the back door I am grabbed from behind. I scream, or try, but the man gags me, and a black hood is forced over my head. I squirm violently, but the hands that hold me are like iron. I feel a prick in my arm, and a moment later the world spins dizzily and there is nothing.  
  
I awake on a couch, and for a moment I can't remember a thing. Then Jeffrey and Amy and the black hood rush back, and I sit up with a scream. I hope it was a dream, but the barren room around me is completely foreign. Other than the couch, there are only a bookcase and a desk. The light is completely artificial, a glaring fluorescent light that wears on me already.  
  
I stand up and move to examine the door, but there isn't even a handle on this side. There is a window, but I would have to be twice as tall to see anything through it.  
  
I would have kicked the door, or screamed, but I had seen that man. He was a professional, or at least pretended he was, and the men who had been helping him were certainly professionals. I know I'm not going anywhere and it isn't worth the hassle to try. I return to the couch and sit, curling up into a tiny ball and trying not to think about how scared I am.  
  
They leave me waiting for a few minutes, but then a man finally walks in. I eye the temporarily open door, but remain curled up on the couch and quickly turn my attention to this man.  
  
He is an older man, sort of distinguished looking, and by his body language I can tell he's not nearly as scary as Jeffrey was. I'm relieved, and yet I am still here in this place and so the relief can only be limited. He observes me for a short moment, then smiles and tells me with a thick English accent, "Hello, Janie. My name is Sydney and I'm going to be giving you some tests today."  
  
I've been behaving like a good little four-year-old, but I'm tired of this game now. "Didn't I take enough tests BEFORE you kidnapped me?"  
  
This man is certainly not easily riled. He smiles in what I'm sure is an attempt at comfort, but all I see is his calculation of how to draw me out. Finally, he says, "I know you're upset, Janie, but all we want to do is help you. We want to help you reach your potential, and help others."  
  
I almost laugh out loud, and all I want to say to him is that he should probably try to believe what he's saying before he says it. But that would give away my secret, so I don't. Instead, I pout and say, "What potential? My sister is the smart one."  
  
Sydney nods slowly, then tells me, "Your sister is certainly smart, but we think you have far more potential than she does." This time I can tell he is telling the truth, and I open my mouth to ask why they were planning to kidnap her if that's the case. Then I remember where I am and close my mouth. I have to think!  
  
"What if I don't want to take the tests?" I have to ask, because I want to hear--and, more importantly, see--his answer.  
  
What I expect is what I get. He looks down with a frown, and advises, "That kind of attitude is probably not the one you'll want to have while you're here." In his posture and his eyes when he glances up I can see what has happened in the past and what will happen to me. Not details, but I know that it is BAD and I don't want that.  
  
I watch him for another minute, then ask, "What kind of tests?" If this weren't such a horrible place, this wouldn't be so bad anyway. I have never gotten to do the kind of puzzles that Jeffrey was showing me the other day. I would like to actually do them, but I still refuse to validate their opinions of me as smart. I especially don't want them to know what I can really do.  
  
Sydney starts giving me tests. They begin with simple puzzles, which I again repeat the same stunt with that I pulled before. Sydney gives me a few more puzzles, waiting for me to cooperate, then stops and looks up at me. "Janie, I need you to cooperate."  
  
"I don't know what to do!" I complain quickly. "They're fun to play with, though," I tell him with a smile.  
  
"Janie, you're not convincing anyone with that act. How about you drop it and we see what you can really do."  
  
I shrug, then decide he's probably right. I'm curious how smart I am, and so are they. As long as I give no hint of special abilities aside from puzzle solving and such, it shouldn't be a problem. Somehow, from looking at him, I suspect that Sydney will drag my true intelligence out of me anyway, so I might as well make it a bit more painless.  
  
I place the pieces of the puzzle which I have been messing with for a while into their proper places. In my mind's eye I had figured out the puzzle less than a minute after it was given to me. These things are easy and I think Sydney knows it.  
  
He continues to give me puzzles, one after another, and they get harder. A little. They never get particularly hard, and I never take more than a couple of minutes to solve them. There doesn't seem to be anything that makes them particularly hard--it's just that sometimes I need a little time to figure out how it works exactly, but that's not a big deal.  
  
Finally the puzzles stop. "That's my girl!" he tells me by way of encouragement. I can see that he has mixed feelings about me. He seems to be happy that I am so intelligent and that he gets to work with me, and at the same time afraid. It takes me a moment of examining him to realize that what he is scared for is not himself, but me. I shudder a bit at the thought, and gives me a worried glance. "Are you okay?" I nod, and we start on a new test.  
  
He tells me that he wants me to "pretend." He puts a special emphasis on the word, almost as though it is capitalized, a "Pretend." He tells me a lot about a man, and tells me that he wants me to "become" that man. I don't understand at all. How could I become someone else? He then asks me questions about what happened to that man when he got caught in a fire. I want to ask him for a picture of the man, because I could probably tell him how the man would react if I could see one. But without that, I am lost and I have to admit that I have no idea.  
  
I can see that Sydney thinks that I am faking again. My first instinct is to protest, but then I hesitate, wondering if that will make me seem more guilty. I feel myself getting lost in an endless loop, never being able to figure out the answer. Finally, I ask, "Please, can we do something else?"  
  
Sydney seems surprised that I would actually request such a thing instead of protesting my innocence and asking to have another chance. But I don't see the point in doing another one of those "pretends" because I don't understand how they work. How could I understand the why of what is happening? I can tell you what will happen, but I have no idea what the motivation is. And why should I care? Better yet, why should they care?  
  
I begin to wonder what the point of all this is. Why would they want to know if kids could do that, pretend to be someone else? I shake my head, I have to concentrate, Sydney is explaining the next "game" to me.  
  
For this one, he wants me to tell him what is happening in a series of pictures. Instead of looking at the pictures, I look first to him. This is another trick, I can see, just like Jeffrey earlier... was that yesterday? I realize suddenly that I have no idea what time it is, nor what day it is. For some reason that is a terribly frightening thought and I have to fight the urge to run. But I fight the urge and promise myself to keep my wits about me and not be tricked.  
  
Sydney shows me a couple of boring pictures. A business man in the middle of a crowd, on his way to work. Sydney asks me what the man is thinking, but I profess ignorance. I can see that he is worried, probably about a presentation he must give. But I shouldn't know this and I know that.  
  
He shows me a few more pictures that are similar, and then we reach one that chills me. It is a girl, my sister, in the midst of a playground. It takes me only a second to realize that she is afraid, deathly afraid, and that they have her surrounded. She is pretending to play happily, as though she hasn't seen them yet, but she knows, she knows.  
  
Anger wells up in me and bubbles over. "No!" I scream. "How could you?? You said I was smarter, that *I* was smarter! You didn't have to take her! I jump out of my chair and run to the door, throwing myself against it. "Let me out of here, let me out!!"  
  
Before I turned away from him, I could see that Sydney, for his part, is surprised at my violent reaction. But now I throw myself violently against the door and will myself to wake up from this awful nightmare. What do they want with me?  
  
Abruptly, the door opens, and a few huge men in suits storm through it. Within an instant, they have grabbed me and are holding me still. I struggle against them, then recognize their grip from my house. These men, or people like them, were the ones who kidnapped me. I scream and struggle, scream and struggle, until I see through my anger Sydney standing in front of me, pleading with me to stop, but I am too angry to hear a word he says. Finally, he looks apologetic, pulls out a needle, and after a prick I am submerged once more beneath the level of consciousness.  
  
This time when I awake, I am laying on a hard floor, with only a blanket and a pillow under me. I moan at the pain in my head, like a hundred jackhammers attempting to pound their way out of my skull from the inside. Finally, a moment later, I muster the initiative to sit up and glance around.  
  
There is little here to see. A sink and toilet at the back seem to be the only things in the room aside from the blanket and pillow. The toilet makes my heart sink, because I know they mean to keep me here for a while. It is worse when I see a camera in the corner. There will be no privacy for me. I turn my back to the camera and curl myself into a ball, laying my head on my knees and trying not to cry.  
  
It takes less than a minute before the door bursts open and two men walk in and take my arms. I scream and struggle, but of course it does no good. One of them kicks me, hard, and I calm for the moment. I am again trying not to cry, but this time from the pain. In my short life, no one has ever deliberately tried to hurt me. I can see that that is changing.  
  
These two towering men in suits drag me down one hall after another, taking so many turns that I almost begin to suspect that we are going in circles. But I can see, after a glance, that these men are impatient and wouldn't want to do that. Finally, I see from their attitude that we are almost there, and I am relieved. I almost begin to struggle again, but the continued pain in my side reminds me of the results of that. Better to save my strength, I weakly decide. For a second I'm angry at myself for taking the easy way out, but at the same time I know it is also the logical decision so I ban those thoughts from my mind.  
  
One of them lets me go to open a door ahead of us, but I know that getting away from one is as hopeless as two. I'm only a four-year-old, and these men were hired for their muscle. I feel utter helplessness wash over me, and I attempt to wrench myself away from the man still holding me, just so that I can know that I tried. He makes sure I will not forget with a powerful kick to my stomach, knocking me to the floor where I curl up in pain. He doesn't even wait for me to recover but carries me into the room that way and leaves me there.  
  
As soon as I hear the door click shut, I begin to sob. I don't even bother uncurling from the ball--actually, my stomach hurts enough that I'm not entirely sure that I can.  
  
For a couple of minutes, I lay like this, sobbing. At this point I refuse to even intellectually acknowledge how bad my situation is--I'm just crying from the pain in my stomach. When I hear footsteps approaching, I just curl tighter and try to stop my sobbing.  
  
A gentle hand begins to rub my back, and I relax slightly, enjoying the touch. For a minute I can imagine that I am back in my room at home, and my daddy is rubbing my back before he reads me a story.  
  
Sydney breaks the mood finally by speaking. "Janie, you need to get up now," he says, a tone of regret slipping into his voice.  
  
I tense up again, curling into a tighter ball. Then I mumble, "I want to see my mom and dad!"  
  
"What did you say?" he asks, genuinely unsure.  
  
Frustration overwhelms me and I scream, "I want to see my mommy and daddy!!"  
  
His hand is back on my back again in a moment, attempting to calm me. "I'm sorry, Janie, but you can't see them right now. We need you to help us with something, and then you'll be able to go home." This time I don't even need to look at him to know that he isn't telling the truth.  
  
"No, I won't, you're never going to let me go home!" I sob. "Leave me alone!"  
  
Sydney's voice takes on a new sternness. "Janie, you need to get up right now. It's time to get to work." There is such authority in his voice that I find myself standing unsteadily to my feet almost without thinking. I look to his face and see that he is worried about me, but is attempting not to show it. "Come on," he tells me, taking my hand and leading me to a chair. "Sit here, and we'll get started."  
  
I sit, but cross my arms belligerently, sending the message that I'm not in a good mood to be working. Then Sydney sets a picture in front of me. "Take a good look at this woman, Janie." I examine her almost without thought, taking in her obvious motivations and inclinations, indicated by her posture, style of dress, expression, and other visual cues. After a moment, I look up at Sydney, my arms still crossed, waiting for him to tell me what he wants.  
  
Sydney makes eye contact and holds it for a moment as if looking straight through and examining my brain. Then he stands and points to a model that I hadn't noticed yet, behind his desk. He motions me over and begins to explain. "This woman is in here," he points to a room on the 12th story. "In 5 minutes, these two men," here he shows me a picture of two burly men in suits, just like the ones that had dragged me to this room. I note their respective personalities and proclivities vaguely, then turn back to Sydney as he finishes, "these two men are going to come into her room and tell her that she is to come with them. What will she do?"  
  
I had unintentionally uncrossed my arms while listening to the story he was setting up. Now, though, I cross them again and say stubbornly, "I don't know. How should I know?"  
  
Sydney frowns, then leans toward me and whispers almost under his breath, "Please, Janie... if you don't cooperate, they're going to transfer you to Raines' care. I don't think either of us wants that."  
  
After looking into his eyes and seeing that he was telling the truth, I sigh. "Give me the picture of her that was just taken," I order, holding out my hand. With a look of surprise, he reaches into his jacket and hands me a picture of the woman he had shown me, sitting at her desk staring at something fascinating on her computer.  
  
I shake my head. "She won't come. She knows she's safe, that they can't make her come." Sydney nods slowly, *almost* managing to cover up his surprise at my response.  
  
"Is there any way that these two men can get her to come with them?"  
  
A smile twitches at the corners of my mouth. "Why don't they tell her she's coming to meet her new helper?" I enjoy watching Sydney's body language change as he absorbs what I have told him.  
  
He nods, finally. "Very good, Janie. I knew you were intelligent!"  
  
Miss Parker glared at her computer. She hoped someone would interrupt her so that she could glare at *them*. Sydney had disappeared for the second day in a row, and Broots was busy researching the clues from Jarod's last lair. Now she had to do the single thing she hated most. Paperwork. She needed to compose a report to the triumvirate and her father detailing the latest failure to recapture Jarod. She *hated* writing these reports.  
  
Just before she actually began to type the report, her phone rang. She picked it up, snapping, "What?!" with even more venom than normal.  
  
An amused Jarod's voice came across the line. "Problem?"  
  
Parker smiled bitterly and said, "Nothing that you can't fix." She let the silence hang for a moment, then continued, "Wish you were here... Give me your address and I'll send you a postcard."  
  
"Handcuffs included?" Jarod asked sarcastically.  
  
"Of course, I wouldn't want to disappoint." The pause indicated that the game was over. "What do you want? Or did you just call to rub salt in the wounds?"  
  
Jarod conveniently ignored her taunting. "Where's Sydney? He's not answering his phone."  
  
"I don't know. Am I his keeper?" She attempted to sound like she didn't care, but in the back of her mind she was beginning to worry.  
  
"No, I suppose not." A pause. "Oh, I sent you something." There was a click and the dial tone, and then her computer chimed to tell her that she had new mail.  
  
She quickly opened it, and saw the only text, "Wish you were here." She opened the attachment and saw Jarod standing next to a sign. "Welcome to CA."  
  
"That jerk! How did he do that so quickly?" She stared at the picture for a moment, looking for clues, then picked up her phone and dialed four numbers. "Broots, get up here!" she snapped. She smiled as she hung up, her bad mood slowly dissipating. There was nothing she liked better than an excuse to get away from the paperwork.  
  
Miss Parker went back to examining the picture, counting the minutes until Broots made it to her office.  
  
At two and one-half minutes, the door burst open. That had to be a new record! She glanced up to give her customary jibe regarding how long it had taken, but stopped when she saw it was sweepers. "What do you want?" she demanded, reaching for her phone to remind them that she was the daughter of the chairman and she was in control.  
  
"Mr. Parker-" here his name came up to counter her sense of control, in the usual power game. "Mr. Parker has not ordered this..." Miss Parker looked up in surprise. This wasn't how it went. "However, you have been requested to come with us to SL-12."  
  
"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to refuse. I'm busy doing my job-tracking down Jarod."  
  
The other sweeper spoke up. "We have also been instructed to tell you that this is for you to meet the newest member of the team assigned to capture Jarod."  
  
Miss Parker had looked back to her computer in dismissal, but now she stood to her feet. "Where on SL-12?"  
  
The sweepers turned. "Come with us."  
  
"No." She would assert her control. She pointed to one, and ordered, "You will stay here and tell Mr. Broots where I have gone and that I will be back later." Then, to the other, she said, "And you will show me where on SL-12." The sweepers made eye contact, then split as she had asked.  
  
Miss Parker remained silent the whole way down, making it her personal goal to ratchet the sweeper's discomfort level as high as possible. She also considered who this new member of the "team" could be. The last few had been disastrous, and she didn't expect anything less this time.  
  
When they reached SL-12, she was surprised to see that they turned toward the area that contained some old SIM labs. What was happening down here?  
  
Suddenly it clicked. This was where Sydney had been all day-working with a new child, probably another pretender. She was surprised and more than a little hurt that he hadn't told her.  
  
She swept into the room ahead of the sweeper, wondering what she would find.  
  
I look up as I hear confident strides clicking down the hall. I move back from the door, giving her space. She will want to feel that she is in control.  
  
I gravitate toward some blocks from a previous puzzle. I fiddle with them, hearing Sydney get up to greet her.  
  
She enters, and I see she has only one of the men with her. Even that man she dismisses summarily. Then she looks at me, and I look down to avoid eye contact.  
  
"Parker, this is Janie," Sydney introduces.  
  
"Oh, is *this* where you have been?" She's angry. Is it at Sydney? Some, but not all. Is it at me? No, but-- It seems like it has to do with me. I file that in the back of my mind for further consideration as she continues. "How old is she??"  
  
"She's four." More quietly, he reminds her, "The same age as Jarod was." I perk up at the name Jarod. From Sydney's tone and her response, he is important.  
  
"And what do you and my father think a four-year-old lab rat can help us with?"  
  
"Parker!" he reprimands her. Then he looks to me. "What do you think she's going to do now?"  
  
I hesitate. Sydney isn't dangerous, but Parker could be, and she won't like it if I am correct. I shake my head at Sydney, but he urges me on. I look to her, then back to Sydney. "She doesn't need my help." I could qualify this by saying that is what she thinks, but that will take the control out of her hands. Besides, I don't know what it is that he thinks I can do that she can't. Then I look to her again, and ask quietly. "Who are you trying to find?"  
  
Parker ignores my question. Her posture indicates that she doesn't want to think of me as a person. I wonder why that is, but watch her as she asks, "What is she, a psychic?"  
  
"No... she's not a psychic. I don't know exactly what to call her yet."  
  
I disappear behind the desk. This way she won't have to see me. She can pretend I don't exist.  
  
"What is she doing now?"  
  
Sydney comes around the desk and kneels next to me. Before he even asks, I explain in a whisper, "She can do it, let her do it."  
  
Sydney stands, and gives the woman a half-smile. "She has great confidence in you."  
  
Suddenly, I realize. This won't work. She wants to prove herself better than me. As it is, I'm not allowing her to keep power at all. "No! I can do it! I *know*," I call out, coming out from behind the desk. I bounce in place for a moment, then yell, "Me me me!" and throw a block at her.  
  
She dodges the block, then glares at me. "Get your pet monkey under control, Syd."  
  
"I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy!!" I yell as I run at her, dodging Sydney's move before he can even make it.  
  
She will sweep her leg under me and send me to the floor. Wait for it.. wait for I-Ow! I land on my back, and the sound of my head smacking the concrete floor resounds through the room. I lay in shock, my head seeming to vibrate in synch with the blood pounding through my head.  
  
Then I jump to my feet, and she grabs me as I expect. I scream, "No, no medicine," before she can even recommend it to Sydney. I struggle against her, but she easily contains my tiny body.  
  
When Sydney moves toward me, needle in hand, I still. I look up at Miss Parker, clearly in control now, and smile uncertainly. "You win. Talk to Daddy for me?" I ask quietly.  
  
Parker looks down at me, indicating with one hand that Sydney should stop. She lets my hand go, and I return to my blocks calmly. Then I look back at a confused Sydney. "My head hurts." To Parker, I say, "You didn't have to trip so hard."  
  
She turns to Sydney. "I think she was acting," she tells him incredulously. "She's almost as bad as rat boy."  
  
I look to her. "He ran away," I tell her solemnly, playing up my innocent young child act. She is sympathetic to me now. She knows someone like me. Well, like I am acting. I wonder who it is.  
  
Parker nods. "Yes he did." She moves toward me, and I can tell that she is working to keep me under her control. "Do you know where he is?"  
  
I shake my head. "You don't," I tell her, by way of explanation.  
  
Sydney speaks up. "She can read people's body language. She knew how to get you down here after we showed her a picture."  
  
"How will that help us catch Jarod?"  
  
"Bring the photos of Jarod's last lair."  
  
Parker disappears for a while, and Sydney watches me. I bash the blocks against one another, and then look up. "Who is Jarod?" 


	2. Part 2

Author's Note:  
I forgot to put this in the first part! As I noted in the summary, this is a repost of a story that I started over a year ago. If you began reading it then, I'm sorry it took me so long to continue! For everyone, I'll note that this part is especially long because it is the four parts that I had written before. This is my first Pretender fanfic (and hopefully this time I will finish it!), and I hope that you enjoy it!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Centre, nor do I own any of its employees or "property," except for Janie.  
  
Not a Pretender, Part 2  
  
Sydney's not certain he wants to answer this question, I can tell. Finally, he sighs and says, "Jarod is a friend of mine who left us a few years ago. We want to find out where he is but he keeps running away when we try."  
  
Whoa. There's a lie if I ever saw one. I have to resist opening my mouth to insist that he tell the truth, reminding myself that I don't need to tell him everything I know. I am content to let him think he has me all figured out. So I innocently question, "Why'd he leave?"  
  
"Jarod was confused, and thought that we were trying to take advantage of him. All I wanted to do was be his friend, though."  
  
This didn't answer anything. Clearly Sydney thought that he was Jarod's friend, but that was the only bit of truth that I could glean from all that he'd said. That, and they were trying to find this Jarod, but that I already knew.  
  
I opened my mouth to ask another question, then frown and put my head down, examining the blocks in front of me. It seems like an eternity, but finally Parker reappears with a box in her arms, the steady percussion of her heels announcing her approach.  
  
I watch her set the box on Sydney's desk, then look down as her eyes move in my direction. I know that she's not really as mean as she pretends to be, but somehow she intimidates me just the same. A moment later I glance up and her gaze has moved back to the box, which Sydney is now looking through. As I watch, he nods and then looks up and catches me watching him. Smiling, he carries the box over to a small table and motions for me to come. Sighing, I drop the blocks and walk over to him.  
  
I can't help it; a laugh escapes me when I see the contents of the box. It contains everything from a colorful hat to gigantic shoes and, of course, balls for juggling with. Sydney hands me a picture of Jarod, and I can instantly see him, in my minds' eye, encouraging children and getting a laugh out of everyone. Almost as quickly, I can hear him in my mind, saying, "Why can't you leave me alone?"  
  
I look up at Sydney and see what I hadn't been able to see before: He *doesn't* want to find Jarod. I close my eyes as everything begins to slip into place: kidnapping, dangerous place, Sydney trying to protect me, and Jarod missing. He didn't "leave," he ran away, just like I want to right now.  
  
But there's no time for this contemplation right now. I begin to go through the box, looking absentmindedly at each of the objects that he has left, and then at the bottom I find something more useful: an envelope with photos of his room when it contained these objects.  
  
Slowly I let my hand trace over the photos, ideas coming together in my head without conscious thought. "California…" I whisper unconsciously as I stop on one particular object.  
  
"What did you say?" comes Parker's harsh voice, and I start as I realize that she is right behind me and has been this whole time. "Syd, what did she say?"  
  
Sydney is giving her just as surprised a look as I would be giving her if I were brave enough to turn and look her in the face. He looks at me, but I'm still too paralyzed to give a response. Turning back, he says, "I believe she said, 'California,' Miss Parker." He looks back to me, and I manage a nod. "Why do you ask?"  
  
Without even looking I can tell how surprised Parker is, just by her silence. I take it by her surprise that she already knew that, which relieves me, because I hadn't intended to say that loudly enough for her to hear.  
  
As the silence lengthens, I go back to staring at the pictures. Jarod was headed to California; in fact, it seems that he's already there. Or been there. I can picture his interactions with the room just enough to realize that he was not planning to stay in California. I think he wanted Parker to know.  
  
My concentration slipping, I hear whispering behind me and realize that Sydney and Parker are discussing something behind me.  
  
"-sent me a picture…"  
  
"And he was in California?"  
  
"That or he faked the sign. Which I wouldn't put past genius boy." On this last, Miss Parker raises her voice in frustration, and then goes silent as she and Sydney both realize that I was no longer involved in what I was doing.  
  
Sydney steps forward, gently resting his hand on my shoulder. "What else can you see, Janie? Do you know where Jarod went in California? Or what he's doing?"  
  
I shrug Sydney's hand off my shoulder, and shake my head silently. Then I step forward again, an idea coming to me all of a sudden. I begin to quickly remove the contents of the box, placing them haphazardly on the floor next to the table. Sydney moves forward as though to stop me, but stops when he sees the concentration on my face.  
  
In my head, I recite what I know already. He'd been a clown, working with kids. He was going to California, but only temporarily. For some reason, he kept in contact with these people, but he didn't want them to find him. Staring at the pile, I begin to choose items and place them according to what I know of him.  
  
When half the pile is gone, I have come to the edge of what I know. Moving back to the table I pick up the pictures and examine the locations of the objects which I haven't yet been able to place. Frowning in concentration, I see that even those objects that I've placed don't line up correctly.  
  
An epiphany! These objects may have been those of a clown, but the man who placed them was no longer a clown. Dropping the pictures on the table, I move back to the objects and begin to rearrange them, slowly, contemplating. Certainly something more serious. And he left in a hurry. I turn to Sydney, and ask quietly, "How long was he gone before you got there?"  
  
Sydney looks mildly surprised and turns to Parker for the answer. Parker, seemingly content to pretend that I'm not here just as I'm pretending that she's not there, gives the answer to Sydney. "The clerk said he'd seen him leaving that morning, so about 6 hours or so."  
  
"What is it?" Sydney prods as he catches my look of surprise. In response, I vocalize my question.  
  
"Then why was he in a hurry?"  
  
"What?" Parker asks in surprise, taking the few steps to the table. "How do you know that?"  
  
Without even thinking about it, I respond, stepping back from her as quickly as she approaches. The next thing I know, I am falling. My foot has landed on a ball and completely failed to gain traction.  
  
I land, though not very gracefully. Suddenly I'm glad that I'm small for my age-not as far to fall! My body, though, aches at the fall so soon after the last, and I lay on my back for a moment without moving.  
  
I can hear steps coming toward me, and then I see Sydney standing over me, looking concerned. I close my eyes, tired. I don't want to think about this anymore.  
  
I hear rustling next to me, and then Sydney speaking softly. "Come on, Janie. Let's get you back to your room." Reluctantly I open my eyes and let Sydney help me to my feet. We are walking to the door when I hear Parker speaking again.  
  
"Wait!" We stop and I slowly force myself to turn back in her direction, knowing instinctively that she wants to speak to me. "Do you have any idea why he was in a hurry?"  
  
I am silent for a moment. "Janie?" Sydney questions.  
  
I look at her feet, too nervous to actually look her in the face. In that instant, I see the ball that I tripped on, sitting unnoticed under the table. Closing my eyes, a smile spreads across my face, and then I open them again. "The ball was in the corner!" I announce triumphantly.  
  
I giggle as they both now give me confused glances, and I can see that they both think that I am too tired to know what I am saying. Suppressing my giggles, I attempt to explain, "He enjoyed juggling! Why would he leave the ball in the corner?"  
  
Parker is still staring at me, but she doesn't look at me as though I'm quite so crazy.  
  
"He was going to find someone!" I announce triumphantly. "I knew it didn't fit! But he didn't have time or room to take it with him, once he heard that someone was missing," I explain.  
  
Parker is definitely skeptical, but Sydney seems to trust me. "Good work, Janie!" he encourages me. "Now you can get some rest." 


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer: No, I have not yet been involved in a takeover of the Centre, its employees, and it's "property".. Therefore, I do not own any of them, except for Janie. Please don't sue me!  
  
Author's Note: Thanks, maestra, for the review! :-) I hope any of you who are reading this are enjoying it.. please review! (Also, sorry this is shorter, but I reached a good point to stop.. this just means the next part will come sooner!)  
  
Not a Pretender, Part 3  
  
I rest in a room more comfortable than the last-this one has a bed, and also a desk in the corner. As Sydney lets me into the room, I'm too tired to even notice the camera. I fade into blissful unawareness.  
  
When I awake, I have no idea how long I have been asleep, but I know that I feel groggy. I roll over to go back to sleep, and then I hear the noise that woke me up: a door opening and closing.  
  
Sitting up quickly, I am disappointed to see that the door is most certainly closed. Glancing around, my eyes focus on a bowl sitting on the desk that I had just managed to note the night before. Apparently, someone has been here to bring me food. Sighing, I stand up slowly, glaring for a moment at the camera before walking to the desk.  
  
Now, I must say that though I know that some people have a particular aversion to anything with a texture remotely similar to oatmeal, I am not one of those people. In fact, at home I have always enjoyed oatmeal when my mom made it. But whatever it is in the bowl in front of me, I'm sure that this must be the kind of hot cereal that gives oatmeal a bad name.  
  
I'm hungry enough that I'm willing to give this gunk a chance to prove that it tastes better than it looks. But as I take a bite, I have ascertained that this is most certainly not the case. In fact, if possible it tastes even worse! I spit it out and retreat to my bed, ignoring the grumble in my stomach.  
  
Fortunately, I don't have very long to contemplate that before the door opens again. I brace myself, expecting the same men who retrieved me from my room the day before. Instead, I am relieved to see Sydney entering.  
  
"Good morning!" Sydney greets me with a smile, taking a seat at the chair next to the desk. (In my mind, I force myself to resist thinking of it as "my desk"… I don't belong here, I must remember that!) He is ready to talk to me, until he notices the still full bowl on the desk. With a frown, he asks, "Aren't you going to eat, Janie?"  
  
"Not hungry," I mumble. I know without looking at him that he knows I'm lying, but I could care less. Looking up, I begin to speak just as he does.  
  
"You really should-" he begins.  
  
"I'm not going to eat it." I tell him, finishing after he stops mid-sentence. I smile humorlessly at the expression on his face. "What do you want?"  
  
Sydney sighs at my attitude. "Miss Parker is following up on what you told her yesterday," he informs me. "But we'd like your help with some other people."  
  
I shrug. I would like to refuse but I've been through that before and it doesn't seem to get me very far.  
  
Sydney attempts to inject some of his own (false) enthusiasm into the situation, since he's getting no help from me. "Ready to get started?"  
  
I shrug and take his hand as he holds it out. Once again I move through the corridors, which all look the same. This time I have time to watch where I am going, but it doesn't help me at all. Finally, we reach the office again and Sydney lets go of my hand.  
  
Though I drag my heels as much as possible, Sydney keeps things moving. One after another he shows me pictures of people: most of them in the public eye, though I don't tell him that I know that. He asks me the same questions: What can you tell me about this man? What is he thinking? What is he planning?  
  
After an hour of this, I'm beginning to become supremely restless. My squirming is interrupted by the door to the office slamming open.  
  
"Got him!" Parker beams. "Come on, Sydney, let's go." She looks to me. "And bring-" She seems to get stuck on a form of address, and finally settles on the generic, "-her."  
  
Sydney is surprised-no, shocked-at this. "You have permission?"  
  
Parker makes a valiant attempt to pretend as though she wasn't surprised, which I see right through. "She's only so much good in here… and it's not like she's going to run away." She looks to me at this and I keep my face and body language purposely expressionless.  
  
Sydney is reticent, but shrugs and stands. I once again take his hand as he holds it out to me, and we follow Parker out of the office, to an elevator. We take that up for what seems like forever, until we are on top of the building. I look around the little bit I can as Sydney rushes me into the waiting helicopter, but I can see nothing that I recognize. The building that I have been in is very large, and sits next to the water. In other directions-I don't have time to see anything more before I am dragged in.  
  
The helicopter takes off, and I wish that I were tall enough to see out of the window. But Sydney has buckled my seatbelt now. Instead, I resign myself to a long and boring flight, especially since I have no idea where we are going.  
  
With a jolt, I wake to find that we have finished our flight and landed while I dosed off. I feel Sydney unlatching my seatbelt, and open my eyes groggily. Beginning to stretch my arms, I feel my right arm come to an abrupt halt, something on my wrist restricting my movement. Looking down, I find that my wrist has been handcuffed to Sydney's. So much for my plan to try to run. 


	4. Part 4

Author's Note: That's right, part four and the star of the show is finally getting his say! (But don't get too excited, only for a little while and then it's back to the star of THIS story.) I hope you're enjoying this! And please, please, pretty please, review if you like this! Just as fairies die if people don't believe in them, writers die for lack of excited readers.. please don't let me die!  
  
Disclaimer: I only own Janie, I'm just borrowing the rest.  
  
Not a Pretender, Part 4  
  
Jarod glanced down at the day's newspaper, which he had just picked up from outside the door. "Timothy Soderstrom still missing," it read. "Parents hold out hope that Timmy is only lost." He sighed. This case had attracted his attention for multiple reasons. Timmy, for one. It evoked too many memories of Angelo to slip completely through. Also, the details of Timmy's disappearance were particularly unusual. The 12-year-old had been in a toy store with his parents, and they could only narrow down his disappearance to within a 20 minute time period, because the store had been so crowded.  
  
What bothered Jarod was that this child was old enough that it should have been difficult to kidnap him and unlikely that he would disappear voluntarily for this long. The fact that Timothy was described as a precocious child only made him feel more uneasy.  
  
Dropping the newspaper, Jarod grabbed his tie and began to fasten it around his neck. Today was the busywork, establishing himself as an FBI agent who had a legitimate interest in the case. He wanted to get right down to business but knew that a strong foundation was important if he wanted to finish his investigation without incident.  
  
As he finished tying the knot, he leaned over and glanced out the window. What he saw was completely unexpected: Miss Parker and sweepers, about to enter the building!  
  
Fortunately, he had barely unpacked. He quickly threw his things into his bag, leaving some behind as he usually did for Miss Parker and Sydney to analyze, useless as it was. Grabbing his bag and the Halliburton carrying his life in it, he made for the door.  
  
Once out the door, he quickly found his way back to the alternate exit that he had noted when he moved in. It wasn't obvious from the front and he had time to disappear before the sweepers discovered that he'd been there.  
  
Within a few minutes, he was in a hotel room across the street, watching carefully through binoculars as Miss Parker stalked around the room, angry that she had once again missed him. He breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't know how recently he had left and wondered, not for the first time, how they had found him so fast. He couldn't think of any way that they could have tracked him this far in such a short period of time.  
  
A moment later, he had his answer. Through his binoculars, he saw Sydney pass by the window. And then, behind him, came a young girl-she couldn't have been more than 4 or 5 years old-who turned out the window and mouthed the word "sorry" to him. As if she were the one who should feel sorry!  
  
I turn away from the window, knowing that I've done the best I could. Sydney has moved away from the window, as he saw me staring out it longingly. Now I am examining the contents of the room, although I knew immediately when I saw the room that we had just missed him. He is somewhere close by where he could see us but we couldn't see him. Hence I attempted a small bit of conversation, as much as I could manage without one of the many people swarming this room noticing.  
  
Looking around, I am awed at how methodical this process is. Parker is looking around the same side of the room as we are on, as the other side is being carefully photographed and then its contexts are being packed to take back. Now I understand the boxes and photographs that I saw earlier.  
  
Now Parker wants answers. I can see it even before she begins to turn. "Well?" she prods.  
  
I frown, covering my furious thinking as to how much I want to tell her. "He knew we were coming.." I felt Sydney squeeze my hand reassuringly, but Parker's response is not so calm.  
  
"What a surprise!" She looks to Sydney. "I needed a genius to tell me that," she says sarcastically. A moment later, I see a shadow of guilt cross her face for the first time, and she looks away from both of us.  
  
Not for the first time, I squirm in the handcuff. It really isn't very comfortable, especially since my arm must be up for Sydney to hold it. At a deeper level that I am not willing to reveal to either of them, I am hoping for a chance to disappear.  
  
I tug harder, and Sydney looks down at me. He is sympathetic, but what he tries to show me is just a stern demeanor. "Janie…" he says in a tone that appears to be an attempt at warning. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell what people intend to say in their body language, since I can see right through it.  
  
I give the handcuffs another tug, even though I know what the response will be. There is part of me that wants to ignore what I "know" and just act.  
  
Sydney turns toward me this time. "Janie, if you don't obey me there *will* be consequences."  
  
"But my wrist hurts!" I whine. "I'm a big girl, why do I have wear this?"  
  
A smile twitches around the edges of Sydney's mouth as he sees right through me. He's not so bad at reading body language himself… But I suspect he has a more conscious control over it. Not for the first time, I wish that I didn't have this "gift."  
  
I can feel Sydney's posture shift as he senses my mood change. Quietly, he asks, "Would you like to go back to the helicopter and wait for Miss Parker there?"  
  
Wearily, I nod. This is the best that I will get so I will take it. I take one last look at the room, then trudge out of the room, following Sydney.  
  
As we walk, I contemplate. If I tell the truth (and all of it), Jarod, who is better than those who kidnapped me, might get caught. But if I lie, then I'm betraying Sydney and I might get both him and myself into a lot of trouble.  
  
I sigh, and Sydney looks down at me. Still quiet, he gently inquires, "Are you alright?"  
  
I sigh again, and then as I begin to speak tears come to my eyes as I whisper what I'm really thinking. "I just want to go home…" 


	5. Part 5

Disclaimer: If you recognize them, I don't own them.. please don't sue me, I'm a poor starving college student!  
  
Author's Note: Sorry this part is shorter than the others.. The section is taking a bit longer than I expected, and I figured I'd give you what I have... Enjoy!  
  
Not a Pretender, Part 5  
  
I can see a burst of sympathy from Sydney, and then his body language changes. He carefully keeps himself distant and deliberately 'misunderstands' what I've said. "We'll be back soon enough, Janie," he tells me. "We just need to wait for Miss Parker to get finished."  
  
"No!" I scream through my tears. "I want to go HOME!"  
  
I dodge Sydney as he attempts to pick me up, but the handcuff pulls me to a stop. I scream, and then he lifts me off the ground. I struggle for a moment, and then I hear his angry voice in my ear. "Stop this, NOW."  
  
I freeze, his anger getting my attention, and remain quiet except for the involuntary sobs and sniffles that come intermittently. As he begins to walk, I try to ignore how much it feels like my dad is carrying me and attempt to preserve my anger toward him. Instead, I find myself getting sleepy.  
  
I am almost asleep when Sydney begins to speak again. "We're almost to the helicopter. I need to put you down, Janie." Then I feel him lower me to the ground. I stumble a bit as I wake up, then walk with him around the corner, wiping my eyes with my free hand. The helicopter is just ahead of us, with a few men in suits guarding it.  
  
Once we are in the helicopter, Sydney leads me to a seat and begins to buckle me in. Awake enough for my anger to have resurged, I shove him away in frustration. Keeping my voice down so that I don't attract the attention of the men outside, I demand, "Leave me alone!"  
  
Now that he's facing me, Sydney catches my hands and then tries to reason with me. "Janie… Janie!" he attempts to get my attention. Finally, wearily, I give it to him. "Sometimes bad things happen, Janie. And you have two choices: you can fight them and make the situation worse, or you can make the best of it." He sighs. "I'm trying to help you, but I only can if you do your best, also."  
  
"Make the best of it?" I parrot angrily. "Make the best of what? That you kidnapped me? Or that you're trying to manipulate me? Or maybe that you want me to-" Almost too late, I realize what I'm about to say and close my mouth. Angrily, I struggle furiously and score a few hits to his shins as he tries to calm me down. I take my chance when he leans back for a moment, slipping out of his chair and under his arms. I hear him cry out as I pull his arm in another direction, but I can't get my hand out of the handcuff. Frantically, I try to assess my options. He's stepping forward, and I can't get more than a couple of feet away from him. Screaming and flailing, I step away from him. Abruptly, he stops moving forward, coming to a stop and halting my backwards progress.  
  
Immediately I realize that there is someone behind me, but it's too late. "Nooo!" I scream, looking to the right just in time to see a needle enter my arm. "Let me go, I want to go home!" I continue. "I want… to go… home…!" I feel my energy leaving me rapidly. The last thing I know is that I'm falling back into a stranger's arms.  
  
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Shameless Plea: Wait!! Before you leave this page, PLEASE press that cool button just below this and review my story! I really want to know what you think, good or bad, and the more reviews I get the more encouraged I am to continue writing. (Blackmail? What's blackmail? ;-) ) Thanks in advance! 


	6. Part 6

Disclaimer: No, except for Janie and family they are not mine, I'm just borrowing them because otherwise Janie's life would be downright boring and not worth writing about! ;-)  
  
Author's Note: This should answer some of the questions that you were asking... But don't worry, I'm not done asking questions yet, much less answering them! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy this!  
  
Not a Pretender, Part 6  
  
Amy arrived with the police officers to a house perhaps more frantic than she imagined it had been when her disappearance had been discovered. For a moment all was excitement and hugging and thankfulness from her parents, and she couldn't get any answers to her questions. Then, finally, they told her what was wrong-Janie had disappeared. Jeffrey had guessed that she had gone to look for her sister, and Amy's parents seemed to agree with that idea.  
  
Amy, on the other hand, knew that this was certainly not the case, and watched Jeffrey closely. At the same time, she wondered how things could have gotten so mixed up. Just last night Janie had told Amy that she was in danger of being kidnapped. Now she was home and Janie had disappeared. Kidnapped? Amy didn't want to believe it, but it was either that or she really had run away. That would mean that she was fearing for her own freedom. Either way, Janie was in trouble.  
  
Deciding to do the one thing that she could, Amy wandered toward Jamie's room. After noting her presence, the few police officers combing the room shrugged off her presence and continued to look around the room. Amy was only here for one purpose: to try to find whether Janie had run, and if so, where. To do this she had to start at the beginning.  
  
She closed her eyes. She had just woken up, and she could hear her parents looking for Amy. She knew she had to pretend that she didn't know, so she played dumb and then stayed out of the way. Then Jeffrey came to the door, ready to work with Amy, and discovered that she had run away. He kindly offered to look after her while her parents went to look for her older sister. This suggestion made Janie uncomfortable, and more so when Jeffrey invited her to--  
  
"--okay, Amy?" Jeffrey was asking, startling Amy out of her thoughts. She looked up at him, and just for a moment she saw him through Janie's eyes and knew that she had been kidnapped. But for now, she had her part to play.  
  
She nodded quietly. "Yeah… I just wish I knew where Janie had gone…"  
  
"Do you have any ideas?"  
  
Amy shook her head. "She could be anywhere!"  
  
Jeffrey nodded in agreement. "Yes, but you know her well… Try to pretend that you're her, and see if you can think of where she would--" At that point, Jeffrey's request was mercifully interrupted by the ring of the doorbell.  
  
She turned to look and saw a man in a suit entering the house. Instinctively glancing over and Jeffrey, she was surprised to see recognition on his face. She looked back at the man, and wondered who he was and if he, too, was dangerous.  
  
The man introduced himself as Jarod, and said that he was from the FBI, here to check into Janie's disappearance. She noticed him glance in her direction, but then he turned his attention back to the adults, getting filled in on the series of events and what everyone knew.  
  
"And you'll want to speak to Jeffrey… he was here when Janie ran away," Amy's mom told Jarod. Amy looked over at Jeffrey, and was startled to find that he had disappeared. Looking around quickly, she realized that he was nowhere in sight. She frowned, wondering where he had gone so suddenly.  
  
She heard Jarod speaking now. "--not around, I'd like to have a word with Amy as well, if that's alright." At a nod from her parents, she saw Jarod walking over to her.  
  
To her surprise, he sat down on the floor right in front of her, apparently comfortable in this position. Grinning at that and immediately put at ease, she too sat and waited for him to initiate the conversation.  
  
"How are you feeling, Amy?" was his first question.  
  
She shrugged. There was no good response to that question, and she knew he knew that. After the pause stretched for a moment, Jarod began again. "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions so I can try to find your sister?"  
  
She shrugged again. Sometimes she hated the way adults said things that had no real meaning, just to keep a conversation going.  
  
"Why did you run away, Amy?" he asked.  
  
This made her look up in surprise. Why was this the first question? "How will that help you find Janie?" she found herself saying.  
  
Jarod, for his part, hadn't been expecting this counter-question. He sighed. "If your sister is half as intelligent and intuitive as you are, she probably knew you were running away, and that may give me an idea of where she might be.  
  
In a leap of faith, she told him the truth. "Janie didn't run away. I ran away because she told me that I was going to be kidnapped." She frowned. "But I think that the person she thought was going to kidnap me ended up kidnapping her."  
  
Jarod considered this revelation. "If you don't mind me asking, how did she know to warn you?"  
  
This was crossing the line. With a frown, Amy replied, "I do mind."  
  
Jarod began to stand again. "Thank you, Amy. With that information, I think I may just be able to find your sister. By the way… Do you know who it was your sister was afraid of?"  
  
Amy nodded. "Jeffrey, my tutor."  
  
Jarod looked grimmer at this. "Have you seen him since she disappeared?"  
  
Amy was surprised by this. "Yeah, he's been here all morning!"  
  
"What?" Jarod asked sharply, looking around. "Where is he?"  
  
"He disappeared right after you came in… I don't know where."  
  
She was surprised at the worried--no, she'd almost define the look on his face panicked. "I need to get out of here… But I will find your sister, I promise!"  
  
Amy believed him, but she had to ask the question. "What are you so afraid of?"  
  
"If Jeffrey is from where I think he is, then he has just been making a phone call and telling the people who kidnapped your sister that I am here. I can't let them find me…" He didn't elaborate. "Be careful, Amy," he remarked over his shoulder as he hurried out of the house.  
  
Amy sat back, surprised at all of that. She was more worried for her sister now, and yet she felt that Janie had a better chance of being rescued. But only if Jarod managed to get away…  
  
At that moment, Jeffrey came back into the room, looking around quickly. She saw a frantic expression cross his face for a moment when Jarod was not in sight. Then he came over to Amy. "Where did Jarod go, Amy?"  
  
Grinning inwardly, Amy pointed to the hallway from which he had not just exited. "Oh, he just went that way to find you… You must have just missed him!" Then she silently crossed her fingers and hoped that Jarod could do everything he promised.  
  
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	7. Part 7

Author's Notes: Okay, first of all I'm VERY sorry that this update has taken so long in coming. For some strange reason college finals ended up higher on my priority list than working on the fanfic.. That, and I had a temporary but pesky case of writer's block. But now, here is the next part of Not a Pretender:  
  
  
Not a Pretender, Part 7  
  
Jarod picked up his phone, a sour expression on his face. A moment later, said phone was causing another within the Centre to call the attention of its owner. That owner had been sitting at his desk, deep in thought with his hands steepled in front of him. Now, however, he had been jogged out of his thoughts, which were in fact almost as dark as those of his caller.  
  
"Yes," Sydney answered, trying not to think about his newest young charge.  
  
"Finished with twin studies, Sydney?" Jarod opened, barely concealed venom filling his voice.  
  
"What do you mean?" Sydney responded, sounding for all the world as though he didn't understand the accusation.  
  
"Missed you yesterday… Couldn't help but notice the new 'member' of your team, though," Jarod replied, ignoring the attempt at deception. "Stealing them young again, are you?"  
  
Sydney sighed. "You know I had nothing to do with bringing her to the Centre, Jarod."  
  
"You're right, Sydney," he returned bitterly. "You're just making sure she stays and allows the Centre to exploit her."  
  
"Jarod…" Sydney began. Then his voice changed. "There's a simple solution. If you come back we won't need someone to find you. I'm sure I can work out a deal to arrange for her release in exchange for your return."  
  
"Sorry, Syd, I think I'm going to have to pass on that deal. You have no more right to keep me locked up there than you do to keep her." With that, Jarod hung up the phone, frowning. Apparently, someone had walked in while Sydney was on the phone… someone other than Miss Parker or Broots, by the change in tone. He shook his head, turning his thoughts away from his former mentor and caretaker and toward that man's new charge, who was still trapped within the Centre.  
  
  
I wake slowly, my head pounding. As soon as I'm awake enough to feel the pain, I roll over and try to go back to sleep, to escape the pain. Instead, I find myself surging upward further toward consciousness, the pain awakening me against my will.  
  
With a groan I roll over on the hard floor, and blearily I open my eyes. The artificial lighting is painful as they are dilated and I close them and wish I were asleep for a moment. Finally, I muster up enough nerve to open my eyes again, and it's not so bad this time.  
  
As I sit up, the first thing I notice (besides the headache which has renewed with the change in position) is my incredible hunger. I can't remember the last time that I was this hungry. I look to the table and see that there is a bowl of mush waiting for me. For a moment, it almost looks appealing, and then my thoughts shift and instead I am angry. I sidle over to the bowl as if I'm considering eating its contents, aware that the camera is on me. Lifting the bowl, I spin and launch it at the camera all in one fluid motion.  
  
My aim is truer than I could have hoped and the bowl hits the camera straight on, cracking the glass and shattering the bowl. I wince a little at the noise of the crash and look toward the door apprehensively.  
  
As I expected, the door slams open, and one of the suits stands in the way to block any possibility of escape. "What do you think you're doing?" the man asks gruffly, anger in his voice. This is the first time I have heard one of them speak.  
  
Acting as rashly as I have been in the last few days, I ignore his body language and inform him with an angry glare, "I'm not hungry." I look up at the camera. "And I don't like that."  
  
The man steps into the room a bit to see the face of the camera, then swears profusely. Suddenly, he turns his attention on me. "You little imp… Do you think you can just destroy things and not be punished?"   
  
He advances on me inexorably, and though I back away, I find myself against the desk, with nowhere left to go. Forcing myself to not look toward the door, I decide that to try to escape is better than nothing. Without letting my body language change in warning, I take off toward the door, slipping around him.  
  
Or trying to. Instead, he catches me by the shoulder, his grasp painful, and yanks me backwards. "Oh no. You're staying here until I'm done with you, and then we're moving you to another room." I squirm a bit, but he only squeezes my shoulder harder, causing me to gasp.  
  
He lets my shoulder go and I tense just as he slaps me across the face. I let myself be knocked off my feet in an attempt to reduce the force of the impact, but I hit the ground hard and my head bounces against the floor once. And I thought I had a headache before.  
  
Aching, I remain on the floor, knowing that this will satisfy him. Even if that weren't what he wanted, I am uncertain whether I could drag my aching body up. Not only that, but I am not so certain of myself anymore… I was unable to anticipate what he had planned until it was too late.  
  
He enjoys watching me lying in pain on the floor, then finally tires. "C'mon, get up," he orders roughly. When I don't respond immediately, I discover his painful grasp on my shoulder once again, dragging me to my feet. It feels as though my whole body is throbbing. Hazily I let him pull me along, out of the room and down the hall to another room a few doors down. Almost before I know it he's shoving me in and then I hear the door lock behind me.  
  
With a sob, I retreat to the corner, curling up with my back to the camera. The pain in my body almost masks the unfamiliar gnawing sensation that is growing stronger and stronger in my stomach. I feel tears begin to slip down my face without my permission. All I can think about is the pain, and the man's face as he administered the blow. How could someone get pleasure out of pain?  
  
Once I have spent my tears, I begin to slip in an out of sleep. Unconsciousness is a welcome relief, but it comes only intermittently. During the times that I am awake, I spend more time trying not to think than thinking. After all, all that comes to mind are things that I will not allow myself to consider: my sister, my parents, this imprisonment, the chase after Jarod, and most of all the pain that attempts to consume everything.  
  
After a period of time that could have been anywhere from an hour to six, I hear the door click and then swing open. Fearing that it is the suited man coming in again from the hall, I curl up closer to the corner and tense in anticipation of further blows.  
  
Instead, I hear Sydney's soft footsteps coming toward me. Somehow, though, I can't force myself to relax, and when Sydney kneels and places his hand on my shoulder, I pull away from him automatically. He leans back a bit and gives me some space, but all I want him to do is go away.  
  
Finally, Sydney speaks. "Janie?" All I manage is a soft sob, and I curl up tighter, wishing for a place of safety but knowing there is none.  
  
Sydney's voice abruptly becomes sterner. "Janie." When he gets no response, he continues, "Janie, look at me."  
  
Another sob, but I can't force myself out of the position that I am in. He reaches out to turn me himself and I gasp in pain as he takes hold of the same shoulder which was manhandled earlier. His hand pulls away immediately, and I can almost feel him frowning behind me.  
  
This time he reaches around to take hold of one of my hands. I try to pull away but with no success. He holds it gently but firmly. "Talk to me Janie."  
  
I open my mouth, but all that emerges is a sob. I feel him release my hand and then begin to rub my back gently. Under his touch I begin to relax, letting go of some of the tension, though the pain doesn't seep out so easily. I feel myself nearing the sleep that was so elusive earlier, and relax into it, grateful for the relief.  
  
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	8. Part 8

Author's Note: Disclaimers are in previous chapters. I'd like to offer an apology to everyone who has been reading this, that the next part took so long to put out. I have been studying abroad since the end of June and didn't have any kind of regular access to the internet, making it difficult. However, I have finished writing the story on paper and now I just have to finish typing it. Hope you enjoy! -- Molly  
  
Not a Pretender, Part 8  
  
Jarod was gone, Jeffrey was gone, and her parents were in shock. As for Amy, she had returned to Janie's room, which was now empty. She was relieved that others were looking for her sister, but she couldn't leave it at that. She knew more about Janie than anyone else, and she might just be able to track her. Janie's next best hope was Jarod-not good since Jarod was running from Jeffrey too.  
  
Seated on her sister's bed, Amy closed her eyes. Jeffrey was asking her to play a game. She could see his intentions so clearly, and she tried to get away. But they caught her, and she felt a prick, and then she was falling...  
  
Amy's eyes flew open with a start. Looking around the room, it took her a moment to remember who she was. Then she took a deep breath, surprised at how vivid it had been.  
  
Standing up, she made her way to her own room. Almost unconsciously, she found herself signing on to the internet. She didn't know what she was going to do but she had to do something.  
  
-----  
  
Hanging up, Sydney looked up at Lyle. "What can I do for you, Mr. Lyle?" he asked calmly.  
  
"For one, you can tell me where your escaped project has disappeared to," Lyle replied, the glint in his eyes assuring Sydney that there was something more to this visit.  
  
"As soon as I know, I can assure you that you will be informed."  
  
"I'm just here to remind you that the clock is ticking. You don't have time for fathering, so save it for home and make sure that we get some results from your new project."  
  
Sydney nodded, carefully hiding his anger. Lyle was trying to provoke him, and he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "Anything else?"  
  
"No, that was all. I look forward to seeing results." With a malicious grin, he turned and strode out of the room.  
  
Sydney watched him leave, and then sighed. It looked as though Janie's nap was over.  
  
-----  
  
I wake up groggily. The pain in my body has subsided to a dull ache, but the fire in my stomach is only growing. I refuse to open my eyes. If I don't, maybe none of this will be real.  
  
Then I hear my name being called, and I drag my eyes open to see-the wall. As I roll over to face Sydney, I feel a lump which previously did not exist press painfully into the pillow. With a small cry of pain I sit up, then rest my face in my hands and hope that my head will stop this crazy spinning before I'm sick.  
  
"What's wrong, Janie?" Sydney questions stupidly. A dozen angry responses jump into my head, but not even the least cynical is the one which emerges.  
  
"I think I'm going to be sick," I manage.  
  
I don't have to see the worried look on his face. "Let's get you to the infirmary," he says, taking my arm firmly despite the hesitation in his voice.  
  
"No, wait!" I urge. "I think I'm feeling better," I tell him, putting all the strength I don't have into my voice, and attempting to meet his gaze without giving away the fact that my head is still spinning.  
  
To my surprise, he accepts that. Then he glances to the camera for a split-second, reminding me that he's self-conscious. Apparently I'm not the only one being watched. "Are you ready to go back to the lab, then?" Underneath his business-like tone, I can hear weariness.  
  
Not trusting myself to nod, I keep eye contact. "Yeah, sure."  
  
"Okay then, let's go." I can see an apology in his eyes. We both know that I'm not up to this, but somehow we continue to pretend anyway. I almost laugh as I realize that whoever is watching us has no idea what is really going on.  
  
He takes my hand, and I stand up. Almost as quickly, my legs have collapsed from underneath me and I am glad that my stomach is empty as it tries to expel its non-existent contents.  
  
Sydney is dragging me from my knees back onto the bed. As I look up into his worried face, I can hear him speaking and realize that he is asking me a question.  
  
"... time that you ate, Janie?" My puzzled expression appears to have answered him, anyway. Giving my hand a reassuring squeeze, he disappears. When I hear the door click shut and lock, I close my eyes with a weak sob that makes my chest ache. It barely seems like any time has passed before the door clicks open and shut again. Almost immediately, Sydney is helping me into a sitting position. Once I am up, though, I see that he has brought more of that apparently ever-present goop. With a moan, I find that even though my head is spinning and my stomach screaming, I still refuse to give into eating that junk. As I mutter something to that effect, I wonder through the fuzz why I feel so strongly. I know there is a reason, but it appears to be lost in the fog that is my brain. I shiver, unnerved by this lack of understanding.  
  
I try to slide down the wall to lay down again, but Syd won't let me. "No, Janie," he tells me firmly. "You need food." Stubbornly, like the little child that I wish I really was, I clamp my mouth closed.  
  
"We both know that's not going to work." He quietly takes my nose between his fingers, cutting off my airway. I hold out for almost a minute before I have to open my mouth to gasp for breath. When I do, Sydney has the spoon in my mouth, full of goop.  
  
It's every bit as tasteless as it looks. I pretend that I'm going to swallow it, then spit it all over him.  
  
Sydney looks down at the mess, then up at me. "It's this or an IV in the infirmary, Janie," he sighs.  
  
I'm tired of being manipulated and trapped, tired of not having any more control over my own life. "I hate you I hate you I hate you!!" I scream. I swing at Sydney, but he stands and walks over to the door, watching me impassionately. If I were being at all logical, I would know the game that he's playing. But I'm tired of being logical. I try to go after him, wanting nothing more than to make him hurt like I hurt, but I'm too weak. Collapsing on the ground, I beat it with my fists instead. I expect Sydney to come, to stop me from hurting myself, but when I look up he's gone. I scream at the top of my lungs, waiting for this nightmare to end. I cry until I have no more tears and my chest hurts from the effort. Finally, I am exhausted-physically, but more importantly, emotionally. Wearily, I drag myself back to the bed, then turn to look toward the door. Suddenly it has clicked and I know that this is what Sydney went outside to wait for. I would be angry but I just don't care.  
  
He re-enters and sits down next to me, handing me the bowl without a word. Like an automaton I begin to eat. I mechanically scoop food into my mouth until I find that Sydney is prying the empty bowl from my hands. Empty, like me. It doesn't even occur to me to resist as Sydney takes my hand to lead me to the lab.  
  
-----  
  
It was the middle of the night and Jarod was on his computer, as usual. It was better than trying to sleep, considering the usual quality of his sleep. Not for the first time, he was setting his wits against those of the Center's current computer genius. He had to admit that he enjoyed the challenge, if not the reason that he was forced to do it.  
  
He found was he was looking for-Sydney's reports on Janie. Afterward, he left some 'surprises' for Sydney and Miss Parker, giving Broots an alternate trail to follow. He knew that Broots could--and would--find what he had been doing; he also knew that Broots would do what was needed on his end to cover it up. Silently and without discussion they had come to a mutual agreement that he had a right to certain information.  
  
Removing himself from the Centre mainframe, he settled down to read. Quickly he saw what Amy had refused to tell him about her sister, and why the Centre had taken her. She had an enormous understanding of human nature, and could anticipate people's responses apparently without SIMing. She had known where he was, when she had come to his room that day. The Centre had the right talents, but clearly the vessel wasn't willing-yet. It was important that he get her out, and quickly. Under pressure, even Sydney would participate in breaking her, to protect her from the PTBs. (Or at least, that was his excuse.) It would be time to see Amy again soon, but first he had some planning to do.  
  
-----  
  
Amy woke groggily. She didn't remember going to bed. No, that wasn't true. She had gone to her computer, but quickly realized that she was wasting time. Climbing into bed with her clothes still on, she had fallen asleep before she could care.  
  
Looking out the window, it was clear that she had slept quite a while. At that moment, her mother entered the room. "Amy?" she called uncertainly. Amy sat up quickly, thinking that her mom might have news. Instead, she could see that her mom needed as much reassurance as she. Jumping out of bed, she ran across the room and threw herself into her mom's embrace, wishing she could disappear into it forever.  
  
-----  
  
When we finally reach the lab, I'm feeling much better--physically, at least. Emotionally, I still feel empty, which I must admit is better in some ways. Either way, I don't want to think about it too much.  
  
I sit down in the middle of the floor without being told, watching Sydney bring the box over to me. "This is the contents of the room that we were in earlier. We need as much as you can tell us about where he was headed."  
  
I shrug. "*He* didn't know where he was going."  
  
"He had to have some idea, Janie."  
  
"Well, he may have until we showed up."  
  
"Where do you think he would go after what happened?"  
  
Ah, the question I don't want to answer. I know he went to my house, and must be gone now. However, I don't want to give these people any excuse to be near my house.  
  
"What's wrong, Janie?" Sydney asks, examining me closely to try to read what I'm thinking.  
  
Mercy comes in the form of a door slamming open, revealing Parker. "There was a Jarod sighting, and my father has forbidden me to follow up. He says there's 'already a team on it.' What is going on?" The words explode out of her mouth.  
  
Sydney is going to try to calm her, but I'm the one who can answer the question. "If you go to my house it might affect how you deal with me," I answer, as though it's obvious (which it is, to me). I smile inwardly as she spins, not having noticed me. Sydney is looking at me, interested.  
  
"Are you saying that you think Jarod was at your old house, Janie?" Sydney questions.  
  
I frown at his use of adjective. "Why wouldn't he be at MY house?" I respond.  
  
"So you think he knows about you?" Parker joins in, refocusing the conversation.  
  
"If he's smart enough that you want to find him, it wouldn't have been that hard after he saw me. And he's obviously curious enough." I refrain from commenting on the obvious parallels between he and I. Parker and Sydney aren't stupid.  
  
"When did he see you?" Parker asks, a slightly threatening tone entering her voice. She's not going to like my answer, I know. For a moment I hesitate, but she only presses me further. "When did he see you?"  
  
"When we went to his apartment," I answer, keeping my tone steady and matter-of-fact. "You weren't supposed to be there for at least 5 more days. He was curious."  
  
Parker and Sydney exchange a glance, and Sydney rescues me from her wrath. "Why didn't you tell us he was so close?" he asks patiently, giving me the benefit of the doubt.  
  
"I did," I insist. "I told you we surprised him."  
  
Parker is still annoyed, but appears to have accepted the new development. "So where is he now?" She resists sharing the bitter words that her brain is clearly on overdrive creating, and I appreciate her restraint.  
  
I frown, glancing back at the box in front of me. "I don't know." I smile without humor. "If I could go home, I could tell you."  
  
Sydney pretends as though I haven't said this last. "Where do you think he might have gone, Janie?"  
  
I sigh. "Probably he's near my house. But he's on his guard, you're not going to find him there."  
  
"Then where will he go afterward?"  
  
"You've known that since I told you he knew about me." There's no point in trying to hide that from them. They exchange another glance.  
  
"Are you saying that he's going to try to come get you?" I notice that Sydney skirts carefully around using the word 'rescue.'  
  
I sigh. "He won't try if he doesn't think he can do it without getting caught." I can tell them all this because I know Jarod is methodical. Ideally, though, I'd rather he not come for me at all. He couldn't anticipate everything, and if he were to get caught...  
  
"Thank you for your help, Janie. I'm going to take you back to your room now."  
  
-----  
  
Amy passed the rest of the day close to her parents--for two reasons. She wanted their comfort and just their presence (and they hers), but she also wanted to find out whatever they did. It was a quiet day, and the only phone call was from the police, saying there was no sign of Janie but they were still looking for her.  
  
She went to sleep easily that night, somehow, even though she felt like she hadn't done anything. The next morning, she signed on and discovered that she had mail from a 'Jarod' with no subject. Opening it, she found a short message. "I have a plan. meet me at the park where the police found you, 10am."  
  
This made her a bit nervous. Janie was the good judge of character, not her. What if this was just a trap to kidnap her also?  
  
She closed her eyes, imagining the park. Was there some way that she could make sure that she was safe?  
  
She looked at the clock, seeing that it was 8:55am. If she went now, she would have time to stake-out the park and be sure that he had no help. She snuck out the back door after assuring that it looked like she was still asleep. That would give her some time before her parents panicked.  
  
She approached the park from a different direction than usual so that she didn't have to cross through the park to her hiding spot. She was almost there when she saw Jarod walk by without looking at her. Looking around quickly, she saw no one. Taking a gamble, she turned and sprinted to catch up with him, not willing to yell his name.  
  
He slowed his pace so that she could walk next to him. "I knew you were worried about trusting me. I can assure you that I will have nothing to do with kidnapping children." There was a bitter undertone to his voice. "I was kidnapped by the same people as your sister, at about the same age. She will not grow up there like I did."  
  
"You ran away?"  
  
"Am running. They still want me back." He frowned, and admitted, "I'm afraid I may be the reason she was kidnapped, because they are trying to recapture me."  
  
"Why do they want you so badly?"  
  
"Because I'm a genius. Just like you. They wanted to kidnap you, but your sister saved you from that."  
  
"Barely," Amy admitted. "They almost kidnapped me at this park. I barely got away." She looked over to find Jarod appraising her, apparently impressed. He sighed, then continued.  
  
"I need your help. Or, rather, I might need your help. I can't say it's without risks, but your sister knows you, and I know you want to help her." For about 30 minutes they walked and talked quietly, so vaguely that no one would know what they were talking about. Each was able to sim the other and fill in the missing elements. Finally, they split up and Amy hurried back. It was 10am when she slipped into bed, and her parents soon came to wake her.  
  
-----  
  
Sydney takes me back to my room, but then a while later (I'm not sure how long, maybe an hour or so), he comes back for me.  
  
He might as well be pointing to the reason. I look back and see the vent. I turn back around. "You know, I do need air." I smile at his surprise, then continue, "Aren't there better ways to do this?"  
  
"What would you suggest?" Sydney asks curiously, as though my opinion valued.  
  
"You can't listen to me." I smile without humor, not willing to voice the reason.  
  
"Why not?" Okay, apparently he wants me to.  
  
I sigh. "You kidnapped me." I hold up my hand to silence the protests that I can see coming. "I know, not you. *You* just use me. You can't help it." I cut myself off, letting the bitterness in my voice speak for itself. "Let's go, wherever this 'safer place' is."  
  
He nods and takes my hand, still examining me. He's trying to shrink me again. I find it ironic that he spends so much time trying to understand me when it's my job to understand others.  
  
I let him lead me down the hallway, though I drag my feet as much as possible. I may be tired of fighting directly, but that doesn't mean I need to make things easy.  
  
We reach an elevator and I follow him in. As the doors begin to close, I feel the compulsion to slip away through the almost closed doors. As if he is reading my mind (or my body language, I berate myself), he tightens his grip on my hand.  
  
I wince. "I wanted to keep that hand," I quip dryly.  
  
I see a small smile turn up the corners of Sydney's mouth. After a moment his grip loosens ever so slightly. Not enough that I have any wiggle room, but the blood can get back to my fingers.  
  
After a moment, I look up at Sydney. "I'm tired," I admit, a bit of said weariness creeping into my voice.  
  
Sydney eyes me solemnly. "I know," he says in a sympathetic tone. "Once we get you to your new room, you can have a nice long rest."  
  
I frown. I am getting tired of his not-so-subtle-evasion tactics. The doors of the elevator open, and Syndey is once again leading me down a corridor, apparently identical to the last.  
  
When we reach the door, Sydney places his thumb on the pad and the door slides open. Inside is another plain room with camera. "Usually creativity is a valued attribute in an interior designer." There goes my sarcasm again, I note with surprise.  
  
Sydney chuckles. "They are pretty boring rooms, aren't they? Maybe next time I can bring something to help brighten it up."  
  
I shrug. I think it would take more than a good interior designer to brighten up these cold, windowless rooms. "No chance I can get a room with a view, huh?" My voice wavers somewhere between dry sarcasm and a weary plea.  
  
Stepping into my room and closing the door, Sydney kneels down to look me in the eye. "You're going to be okay, Janie."  
  
I look away. I hate it when adults utter empty platitudes as though the words somehow have the power to fix everything. After a moment, Sydney stands to leave. Suddenly I'm afraid to be alone by myself, afraid of what will happen when this nasty mood turns on me. "Wait!" I call urgently. Sydney turns quickly.  
  
"What is it, Janie?"  
  
I shake my head. "Don't leave me alone," I hear my emotionless voice echo in my ears.  
  
Sydney frowns. "I can stay, but you're safe here," he assures me.  
  
I was to scream that I will be safe from everyone but myself... and I am the person I am most afraid of right now. Nevertheless, Sydney turns and leaves silently. 


	9. Part 9

I stare at the empty room, then at the camera. After a moment, I lay on the floor under the camera. I think to myself that this is a moment in which I would like to be violent, or even just to have a good cry. Instead, I lay on my back staring blankly at the ceiling.  
  
After what feels like about 10 minutes, the door slams open. It's another of the nameless goons sporting designer suits. "What are you doing over in that corner?" he asks angrily.  
  
"Lying on my back staring at the ceiling, of course."  
  
"Well, you can do that in the other corner." I don't move. "Well, what are you waiting for?"  
  
"I like this corner better."  
  
"I'm sure you do," he responds with a sneer, "but I really don't care what you like. Now get yourself moving, or I will."  
  
"No thanks, I'll just stay here." The more he argues, the more appealing this position comes. I know he's not afraid of hurting me, that he's going to hurt me, but I just don't care. Now he's not interested in talking anymore. Crossing to where I am in three strides, he takes a big chunk of my hair and drags me to my feet. I shriek in pain, then manage between clenched teeth, "If you wanted some of my hair, you could have just asked." He grunts and shoves me across the room. I stumble against the bed, then stand, watching him.  
  
"Lay down and stare at the ceiling now," he drips sarcasm. I shrug and lay back down. Not what he was expecting. "And stay there!" is his weak response.  
  
I wait for him to leave the room, then roll myself slowly from where I am off the bed and under the camera. Then I begin to count slowly.  
  
At 374, the door slams open again. "Get back over there!" I stand slowly and make my way back to the bed. "If you go under the camera again..." With that open-ended threat, he slams the door shut.  
  
Starting at my bed, I count how many steps it takes me to cross the room. Twelve. And fifteen the other direction. Satisfied, I return to my position under the camera to examine the room more closely. I take note of the vent, which looks to small for a child of ten to crawl through. Jarod's not coming that way, but if I plan it right...  
  
Once again the door opens. I stand and move back to the bed without him asking. When he pulls out handcuffs, though, I distance myself and shake my head.  
  
"Oh yes," he smiles, taking pleasure in my reaction. He walks over to me slowly, and though I make one attempt to get around him, I fail miserably. He snaps one of the handcuffs (I didn't know they made them that small) onto my right hand, then drags me to the bed. After threading the handcuff around the head of the bed, he snaps the other one to my other wrist.  
  
I can't do much but lay on the bed with my hands over my head. After some consideration, I swing myself around until I'm sitting up facing the corner. In this position, I try to find some way to sleep. It's going to be a long night.  
  
-----  
  
Amy made the necessary excuses, and went to bed early. Only she didn't go to sleep. She waited for her father to come in and check on her, then dressed in all black and slipped out the window.  
  
Jarod was waiting in his car two blocks away. Amy climbed in and looked out the window as he pulled away from the curb. They drove in silence, and finally Jarod spoke. "You should probably get some sleep, it will be over an hour before we get there."  
  
Amy looked over at him. "I don't think I could sleep if I wanted to. And I don't." Jarod shrugged, and she turned back to look out the window.  
  
-----  
  
My emotional exhaustion has officially run out. Now I am just mad. I begin kicking the wall, then screaming. "Let me out of this stupid place! I hate you, I hate you all! I won't do what you want, not anymore!" No response. I kick the wall some more, then try to extract my hands from their restraints. Finally, I begin to scream at the top of my lungs, stopping only to take breaths.  
  
I think I may last as long as ten minutes, but my throat hurts and my voice is almost gone. Now I'm exhausted, and my anger is giving way to fear. I'm all alone in here. There is either no one to hear me scream, or no one who cares. They could leave me in here forever, and probably no one would care when I starved to death. Suddenly I know that if they offered me a chance to see my family at this moment, I would do anything. My family is the only hope I have left, and they have no idea where I am.  
  
I want to go to sleep and never wake again. I wish I was never born; or better, that I was normal. "I didn't ask for this," I whisper.  
  
If I don't have these abilities, maybe they will let me go back to my family. I begin to bang my head against the wall, slowly at first, then faster and harder. The dull pain is somehow nice, even if some back part of my brain is screaming at me to stop.  
  
The door slams open, and I brace myself for an explosion of pain. Instead, I feel someone taking hold of my head, firmly but gently.  
  
"Stop!" pleads an almost kind voice. Could this really be one of the heartless goons? "Please, Sydney is on his way, just calm down."  
  
I don't fight him. Slowly he releases my head. "That's good... it will just be another minute. With that he leaves, but I don't hear the door click shut. I lean my head against the wall, staring at it and letting my eyes find patterns.  
  
I hear Sydney's angry voice down the hall, though I can't make out the words. Then I hear his footsteps, and the door closing behin him. The first thing he does is remove the handcuffs from my hands. I let them fall, not moving.  
  
"Who did this to you?" he asked angrily. I'm silent. "Janie, look at me." A worried tone comes into his voice. I still don't move. He turns my head and I stare blankly at him. He is scared I might have brain damage, I can see it, but I don't feel the need to reassure him.  
  
He hits my funny bone. "Ow!" I exclaim hoarsely. He sighs in relief.  
  
"Don't scare me like that!"  
  
"Go away." My voice comes out as a whisper, emotionless.  
  
"What happened to your voice?" he asks, ignoring my command.  
  
"Watch your precious cameras," I respond bitterly.  
  
"Janie, I'm sorry, but I didn't--"  
  
"Go away."  
  
"Janie--"  
  
"Go away." I've gone back to staring at the wall.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
He hesitates, then decides to let the conversation end. i wait for the door to close, then lay down and close my eyes, rolling over so the camera can't see my tears.  
  
-----  
  
She had just managed to settle down after work and slip into a light sleep when the phone rang.  
  
"What?!?" Somehow she managed to insert even more venom than usual into her greeting.  
  
"Don't tell me you were asleep already."  
  
"You know perfectly well that I was. What do you want??"  
  
"Does she remind you of when we were kids?"  
  
She sighed. "So that's what this is about."  
  
"Yes. Doesn't it ever keep you up at night, knowing that they will destroy her life like they destroyed ours?"  
  
"She's only there because YOU ran away," she responded by force of habit. "Come back home and she can go back to her family."  
  
"You make me sick, Parker."  
  
"See you soon," she ended with false sweetness, and they hung up simultaneously. She would never admit that she had trouble getting to sleep after the call, but somehow she though he already knew.  
  
-----  
  
Jarod climbed out of the car, having finished his phone call. Amy did the same. Walking around to her side, he whispered, "Ready?"  
  
Amy nodded. Jarod continued, "No more talking from here. If anything happens, I want you to get out of here; don't worry about me." He paused. "Any questions?" She shook her head. "Okay." They started off, Amy forced to run slightly faster to keep up with Jarod. Soon they were circling the imposing building. Jarod seemed to know where he was headed and how to avoid the security, and Amy trusted him.  
  
Jarod helped her into the ventilation duct, then climbed in himself. As soon as possible, they switched so that Jarod could lead the way.  
  
Amy's knees were beginning to get sore when Jarod stopped. She looked past him and saw that the vent narrowed ahead--but not too small for her.  
  
Jarod nodded. He pointed left, then held up three fingers. After that, he held up two more. Amy nodded in response, then slipped past him.  
  
She turned into the third vent on her left. She was between the first and the second grate when she heard a commotion behind her. Jarod wasn't speaking--what was going on? She didn't dare go back yet.  
  
She began to feel light-headed. Why was she so tired? Her head was so heavy... 


	10. Part 10

No one comes to wake me the next morning. I am surprised--I had expected Sydney to come back to talk to me and get me moving. At one point, someone comes in carrying food. I roll over to watch him, and see from her his body language that something has happened. There is only one thing that I can think of that would involve Sydney--Jarod. I hope he hasn't been captured, but in reality I know the truth.  
  
Sydney finds me under the camera, knees hugged to my chest. He walks over to me, sitting down against the wall and thinking.  
  
I sigh. I don't want to be the one to speak. I prefer being ignorant, even though I can't be--I've already seen it in his eyes. Jarod is back, but I'm certainly not going home.  
  
Finally, Sydney speaks. "I'm sorry about what happened last night."  
  
"That helps," I respond sarcastically, my voice scratchy. Sydney falls silent again.  
  
"Would you like to talk about it?" he asks eventually. I remain stubbornly silent. "You can't just stay down here all day."  
  
"What are you going to do, handcuff me to a table?"  
  
"That wasn't my fault, Janie! I would do anything to have stopped him, but..."  
  
I look over at him. "Pretending to be a good guy doesn't make you one. You have to act like one." Sydney just stares back at me, looking for redemption. I shrug. "Can't help you there. I'm not God any more than any of *you* are," I mutter.  
  
We sit in silence for a few more minutes. In the end, Sydney knows how to get me moving. "Jarod is waiting to meet you."  
  
"Why do I get the feeling that neither of us has any choice in this?" Nevertheless, I stand of my own accord. They may be trying to manipulate us, but I can use any opportunity to get more information.  
  
There are more of the same hallways. Then, after passing through 3 guards and 2 electronic locks, we reach Jarod's room. Two things surprise me--first I see that Jarod is not restrained, and then the door closes and I realize that Sydney hasn't followed me inside.  
  
I look at Jarod. He's seated at a table, and he beckons me to come fill the other seat. As I move forward slowly to do so, I study him.  
  
What I see is confusing. I can't see the Jarod I was searching for. Instead I see someone more like Sydney. Now that I think about it, too much like Sydney. As I make the leap of logic, I can see through the mask to Jarod, tiny little glimpses that are revealing--anger, at himself and the situation, worry (for me--I wonder for a moment if I look that bad, then decide I don't want to know), and instense concentration. I see immediately why this place wanted him so badly. He's good, almost too good. Even *I* can only see through intermittently. What is going on?  
  
--  
  
Jarod knew what was going on--exactly what was going on. He didn't like it at all. Somehow had come up with the perfect trap for him: put the fate of a small girl in his hands, a small girl who could practically read the thoughts as they crossed his mind. All he had to do is convince her that he really wanted her to help the Centre. The problem was he could only succeed if he could convince himself. Or at least that was the plan. He hoped that there was some way that they could trick their observers, at least long enough for Janie to be rescued.  
  
Meanwhile, the perceptive 4-year-old was taking a seat across the table from him. She was good--her face was impassive, her thoughts unreadable. He couldn't tell for certain if she was buying the act or not, but he had to continue as though she was. He had slipped himself as far into the role as he could, and now he was ready to begin.  
  
--  
  
He smiles at me, relaxed and friendly. "You're pretty good--you might have caught up to me if I hadn't come back on my own."  
  
I'm skeptical, but I'll play along. "Why did you come back?"  
  
Jarod settles back. I can't see him through the mask. That scares me, and I wonder again what is going on. "I heard you were having trouble adjusting. This place can be scary at first, but I have lots of great memories from here, and I'm sure you will too." At this I catch a burst of bitterness from the "real" Jarod. I'm relieved, but also worried--why is he doing this to himself?  
  
I couldn't accept this so easily, if if I did buy his act. "If it's so great, why are there guards?"  
  
"They're for your protection. I know you've had a bad experience, but..." The hesitation in his monologue is one only I would notice, but if gives me a glimpse of him and he's tearing himself apart.  
  
I cut in as though I'm reading his features. "Infiltrators?" I give my voice a surprised tone.  
  
--  
  
Jarod was relieved, but also embarassed. Once again a 4-year-old was helping him, instead of the other way around.  
  
He wasn't going to waste it, though, and the play had to go on. He nodded sympathetically. "I'm very sorry, but I'm also going to help in sorting out the people who want to hurt you so you will be safe here." Then he indicated the folder on the table. "They need your help with this... They need more information on this man." He passed the folder across the table to her. He then listened to her begin to explain what she saw. At first it was general information, then her tone changed ever so slightly, though she kept her body language the same.  
  
"He knows that he's in danger. Why is he more worried about someone else?" She looked up at him, waiting expectantly for an answer. Okay, so it wasn't a rhetorical question.  
  
"Why do *you* think he does that?" It was too dangerous to give a real response.  
  
She looked back down at the picture. "He doesn't value himself... But he is going to get himself hurt if he tries to help someone who doesn't want it."  
  
"What if that person needs his help?"  
  
"He's in more danger. They both heard something from outside and stuidiously ignored it. "But he's not going to change his mind until its too late. Someone should tell him." She spoke as though she were looking in his eyes, even though they were trained on the picture.  
  
--  
  
I've done the best I can do. Jarod continues the game. "Do you see anything--" he's interrupted by the door slamming open.  
  
I look back to see three of the resident goons in suits entering. Jarod knocks over his chair in an instinctive attempt to get away, but they grab him and after a brief struggle have him firmly in their grasp. The third takes hold of me and I don't bother to struggle.  
  
A man I haven't met yet enters the room. As I'm dragged from the room I can see Jarod begin to struggle, clearly furious. I've seen just enough of this man to know that his hatred is justified. Sick is an understatement.  
  
There is no sign of Sydney, and suddenly I realize that I'm not being taken back to my room. After a short ride in the elevator, I find myself instead in a room that looks like part of a hospital ward.  
  
As soon as we get through the door, I see what looks suspiciously like a surgery table, and that's all I need to see. Recoiling, I get my teeth around one of the hands that holds me. With a roar of pain he releases me. I spin to see that the door has been closed by a new presence--an old man who is pulling an oxygen tank. If anything, I think, got the worse deal between Jarod and I.  
  
The goon gets hold of me again, holding me much tighter than necessary. The ghastly man in front of me smiles, and I shudder. "Relax, Janie... this will be a nearly painless procedure." The goon drags me to the table, but not before I get my two cents in.  
  
"I'm fine, I don't need any 'procedure'!" I scream. To no avail. As the goon straps me to the table, I see the man with the oxygen tank coming close, holding a mask. I take a deep breath, holding it in as an act of protest. He places the mask firmly over my face and smiles at me, causing me to shudder again. While my attention is elsewhere, the good deals a stunning blow to my stomach that expels all my precious air. I try not to breath, but I have to gasp in air after a moment. It is strangely humid, and I immediately feel a warmth spreading through me... then I feel nothing.  
  
-----  
  
"What are you doing?" Jarod yelled furiously. "Haven't you done enough yet??"  
  
Lyle smirked. "We'll have done enough when you and your young friend understand that we only accept cooperation."  
  
"We WERE cooperating!"  
  
"I'm not stupid, and the only people you were cooperating with were each other."  
  
Jarod had calmed a bit by this point. Now he just wanted information. "What do you want?" He made it clear in his tone that he didn't mean generally.  
  
Lyle smirked again. "Just to remind you that your actions will have immediate effects on others--as you'll soon see."  
  
Jarod hated to beg, but this wasn't for himself. "Wait! Don't hurt her, she's just a child... give me another chance!"  
  
"Oh, you'll get another chance," Lyle grinned, "right after Raines and I have had ours." With that, he turned and left, followed by the sweepers.  
  
He didn't know how long he'd been pacing around the room, probably at least three hours, before the door opened and slammed closed, startling him out of his thoughts. Just inside the door he could see Jani, and he jumped to his feet. "What's wrong?" he asked immediately. "Are you okay?" He moved toward her, trying to see what they might have done to her. Maybe Lyle had been bluffing... he hoped...  
  
She began to cry silently and shook her head, then moved to the corner, away from him. He followed. Kneeling next to her, he rubbed her back soothingly. Finally, he asked quietly, "What happened, Janie?" In the back of his mind, he wondered why they were letting him comfort her.  
  
Getting no response to the question, he gently turned her head so he could see her face. "Janie, talk to me."  
  
What he got was not what he expected. "Leave me alone!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, then shoved him back and retreated to another corner. She curled into a ball, and Jarod followed her once more. What was going on?  
  
He reached out to touch her, then recoiled when she started at his touch. Facts began to fall into place in his head--but that couldn't be it, why would they do that?  
  
There was one way to find out. He lifted his hands from her back, then clapped right next to her ear. No response. Fury welled up inside of him. How could they have deafened a 4-year-old CHILD???  
  
--  
  
I lay still, and after a pause Jarod's gentle rubbing returns. I can guess that's probably figured out what I figured out almost from the moment I woke up. I don't want to see it in his eyes, though, so I let him continue to rub my back and try to pretend like the room is just very quiet.  
  
Finally, I work up the courage to turn and look him in the eyes. I see sympathy, but also a deep sense of guilt. "It's not your fault," I tell him, my tone a bit confused. Why would it be his fault?  
  
Jarod frowns. I can see that he doesn't agree. For a moment, I forget myself as I try to help him instead. "You couldn't have stopped them, and nothing can make you responsible for what people like THEM do," I tell him firmly.  
  
A strange expression crosses his face. It takes me a moment to recognize what it is--he's listening to something.  
  
--  
  
"How sweet," said Lyle's voice, dripping with sarcasm. "You think that she would still offer you forgiveness if she knew the truth?"  
  
"And what truth is that, Lyle?" Jarod challenged.  
  
"The truth about how many lives you've ruined. Everywhere you go you leave destruction in your path."  
  
"That's the Centre, not me!" he yelled back.  
  
"But you *are* the Centre, Jarod.. For more than thirty years you propelled ahead of even the best technologies that anyone else could propose." He paused. "You can't tell me that you, the genius, really could have missed the potential of your simulations? No, you just closed your eyes. Opening them now can't redeem you."  
  
--  
  
I can't hear what's being said, but I can see Jarod's expression. First he looks angry, then stricken. He doesn't seem to see me--instead he is watching some horrible internal film, his thoughts spinning.  
  
"Jarod, listen to me! Don't listen to that person, he only wants to hurt you!"  
  
--  
  
"Yes, Jarod, ignore me. I'm already enjoying the possibilities of what we can do to your little friend next. She needs her eyes... but what about her legs? Please, Jarod, ignore me, then explain to Janie why she will never be able to walk again!"  
  
"You're sick!" cried Jarod, leaping to his feet.  
  
"No, *you* are sick. Why would you encourage your friend to rebel when you knew there would be consequences. It's just business for me, but *you* are betraying a friend!"  
  
--  
  
One glance in my direction is all I need to see to know that they are discussing me, at least in part. Frustration is welling up in me. Still, I don't know how to intervene because I can't hear what they are saying.  
  
I watch as Jarod's face hardens. Finally, he looks down at me, then points to the table.  
  
I'm not going for that. I shake my head stubbornly. He gives me a stern look. I close my eyes in defiance, but they fly open again when he not so gently takes my arm and drags me to my feet. I look in his eyes, but Jarod is gone and he's pretending again.  
  
He drags me to the table, sits me down, and then I voice the obvious question. "Um, have you forgotten that I can't hear?"  
  
Jarod turns and says something to the camera. I want to scream. I'm so used to understanding, and now... I find myself blinking back tears as Jarod looks back. He's more relaxed now, closer to the real Jarod. I can see he knows how I feel, but he ignores that and instead sets to work: teaching me sign language.  
  
I emphasize every difficulty possible, trying to prolong the process. At times, Jarod tries to hurry me; others, he helps me stall. Sometimes it seems to me like he is biding his time, as if he has some hope, but I tell myself that it can't be true. I'm tired of being disappointed. 


	11. Part 11

Not a Pretender, Part 11  
  
Amy had woken, slowly, in the middle of the vents. Panicked, she tried to figure out what she should do. How long had she been asleep? Where was Jarod?  
  
She backtracked to where she had left Jarod, but she didn't find what she expected. Actually, she didn't know what she had expected, but certainly not this: a man who at first glance looked younger than he was, and who was comfortable in the vents. He had a strange expression on his face. Startled, Amy began to back up, but the man put his finger to his lips and shook his head.  
  
"Sister and friend in trouble. Must follow me." With that whispered comment he turned and scampered off. Amy hesitated, then decided she had nothing to lose and followed. Even though she had the advantage of small size, she had trouble keeping up with him. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, she wondered who this man was.  
  
Finally they reached a room, and stopped. To Amy it looked like a storage room. She looked to the man, then asked (still quietly), "Who are you?"  
  
He put his hand on his chest. "Angelo." This was accompanied by a half smile. Pointing to her, he said, "Jarod friend. Jarod and sister in trouble."  
  
She didn't know quite how to respond. He talked like he was retarded, but something inside her was saying that he could be a great help.  
  
"What can we do?"  
  
"Friend wait here." Before she could protest, he disappeared back into the vent.  
  
It felt like forever before Angelo returned. Over and over Amy considered leaving, then reminded herself that this man, whoever he was, was her best hope. That thought didn't help much, though, because her patience was still running thin: she had heard the urgency in Jarod's voice and knew that time was short.  
  
When Angelo returned, there was an urgency in his voice also. "Friend must come now, sister in trouble!" He immediately returned to the vents, forcing her to scramble to her feet to follow him. If she had thought she was having trouble before, now was clearly worse. Only sometimes could she see him--sometimes she could only hear him, just barely around a corner. One of those times she rounded the corner to find him at a full stop. She recovered before she ran into him, then nodded as he once again reminded her to be quiet. She wondered if this child-like man was playing a game and had no idea what was really going on.  
  
-----  
  
Jarod stopped his work with Janie when he heard the noise. Someone--was that Sydney?--was yelling angrily outside. Remember himself, he did his best to explain to Janie. She, in turn, looked to the vent, and was surprised to see eyes there.  
  
Carefully avoiding changing her body language, she explained this to Jarod in a combination of guestures and isolated words. She looked back and saw that the grate was off. There was a man, motioning her to come, and indicating Jarod also.  
  
As soon as Jarod understood, he quietly stood and moved to the vent, knowing Janie would follow. His suspicions were immediately confirmed: it was Angelo waiting for them. They climbed in and past Angelo, who proceeded to close the vent. As though that would fool Centre personnel. Then he looked forward and was relieved to see that Amy was there also.  
  
--  
  
Amy rounded the corner and saw Jarod. Immediately afterward, her gaze met that of her sister. She was excited to see her, but that almost immediately turned to shock as she took in her sister's appearance.  
  
Janie had lost quite a bit of weight, and she had dark circles under her eyes. Amy could see a large bruise on her forehead which was in the process of turning a nasty shade of yellowish green. Worst of all, though, was that it seemed like some spark, some essential part of Janie was missing.  
  
Jarod moved forward, blocking her view of Janie. "C'mon, Amy, let's get out of here," he said quietly. "Your sister will be okay... she just needs time." Amy nodded numbly and turned, moving as quickly as she could back the way she had come. Angelo soon took the lead and set his usual blistering pace. They were almost out!  
  
--  
  
I meet my sister's gaze, and wait for the burst of happiness to well up inside of me. It doesn't come. I feel hollow, empty; I can see in her her eyes that I look every bit as bad as I feel.  
  
Jarod interrupts the eye contact and says something to my sister. Then he lets me pass and urges me forward. I understand the urgency and try to keep up, but I just can't do it. Jarod continues to herd me from behind, and somehow I keep moving. They could be coming, but I won't hear them!  
  
This journey seems to continue forever. Finally, the man who has been leading us moves aside and Jarod takes the lead. I make eye contact with the stranger and he gives me a sympathetic look... no, it's more than that. I can see my emotions being mirrored back, and it's an uncanny feeling. I make a mental note to ask Jarod about him later.  
  
We get to a series of metal ladders and begin to go up. I make the mistake of looking up--I can't see where they end. My pace is slowing and they are leaving me behind.  
  
All of a sudden, Angelo is below me. He places my arms around his neck and begins to climb, letting me ride on his back. He lets me wet his shoulder with my tears, tears of sadness and pain, but most of all fear.  
  
We stop, and Jarod gently removes me from Angelo's back. He says something to Angelo, and Angelo smiles. Then looks to me, pats my shoulder, and gives me a thumbs up. Somehow, that gesture has so much more meaning to me than any, "You're going to be alright," that I've ever heard from an adult. I watch him disappear, then look back.  
  
We're at the exit, but Jarod is holding out a hand to warn us to wait. While we're waiting for the all clear, my sister and I exchange another glance, and I force myself to smile reassuringly.  
  
Jarod takes my hand and we run across an open field, thankfully dark. It lights up just after we get to the beginning of the forest. Jarod picks me up and we run to the car, which is further back in the trees.  
  
--  
  
Jarod set Amy's sister down in the back seat, and Amy immediately climbed in the back as well. Janie leaned over, setting her head in Amy's lap, and Amy instinctively began to stroke her head the way her Mom always did. She was relieved to feel some of the tension leave her sister.  
  
She looked up and saw Jarod watching her in the rear view mirror. "How are you doing?" he asked her, looking back to the road while awaiting a response.  
  
"I'm fine," she responded. "It's just... what went wrong?"  
  
"Something that I should have anticipated," he responded self-depricatingly. "A simple trap. They just pumped an anaesthetic into the vent. By the time I realized, it was too late." He paused. "I take it they didn't find you?"  
  
She shook her head. "Good," he said, real relief in his voice. Amy looked down and saw that her sister had fallen asleep.  
  
"What... what happened to my sister?" she finally got out through the lump in her throat. 'What did they do to my sweet, innocent sister?!?' she was screaming in her head.  
  
Jarod shook his head, disgust on his face. For a moment, he couldn't respond though his anger. Finally, he managed, "Things that should never, ever be done to anyone." There was a deep bitterness in his voice.  
  
"But... will she be okay?"  
  
Jarod nodded. "More or less. You can help her by being there when she needs you."  
  
Amy nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She wiped a tear off her face with her free hand before it fell on her sister, then looked out the window. She was glad to see the darkness being broken by the coming dawn.  
  
-----  
  
When I wake, I don't want to open my eyes. Was it all a dream? The bed feels too comfortable. Maybe I'm still dreaming.  
  
Finally, I open my eyes. The first thing I see is the bright sunshine streaming in through the window. Instantly I know this isn't a dream. For a moment I bask in the warmth of the sunshine. Finally, I sit up and look around.  
  
The room has two beds. The other is empty, but clearly it has been occupied, based on the disarray of the sheets. I stand and make my way out of the room, into the hallway that follows. Clearly I'm in a house, but it's not one that I've ever been in. Maybe Jarod's?  
  
I reach the end of the hallway and turn to the right, following the light. There is a door open on the left, and as I look in I can see a large open room with glass doors that lead to a big backyard. In the room, my mom and dad, sister and Jarod are all seated around the table, laughing about something. I smile, relieved to see that they are all okay.  
  
Jarod notices me first and gives me a reassuring smile. I take another step in, and my dad sees me. "Janie!" I can see him yell, and a moment later I am mobbed by three very happy and very relieved people. I can can't hear them, but I can see and feel their love and that is plenty at this moment.  
  
When the group hug is over, everyone is talking and I look to Jarod to translate. He shakes his head, then nods toward Amy. When I look to her, she has a brilliant smile on her face, and she immediately begins to sign to me.  
  
After a moment, I have a question. "Hey, how did you learn so fast???"  
  
"You've been asleep for a whole day, sillyhead!" She has created her own sign for the last sign, but I catch on immediately.  
  
"Oh, right, and that's plenty of time," I respond aloud.  
  
"Look who's talking, Miss 'I Got Kidnapped So I Could Catch a Genius.'" (Okay, not exactly like that, but I get the point.) At that I catch my breath, the smile disappearing from my face.  
  
At this Jarod intervenes. Kneeling down so that he's at eye level, he signs, "You're going to be okay... They will never find you again." I smile as bravely as I can and he pats me on my back. Then he stops signing.  
  
"How do you like your new house?"  
  
"My new..." I stop as I realize I just read his lips... well, that and his body language.  
  
Jarod grins. "I thought you might hav ea talent for that."  
  
My sister taps my shoulder. When I look, she says, "He just wants to take credit. It was my idea."  
  
But I'm stuck on something else. "Wait... my... OUR... new house?" I see my parents nodding.  
  
Jarod catches my attention. "And you start first grade in a few days." He smiles mischieviously.  
  
"But... I'm not old enough..." I'm feeling very out of place, like an episode of the twilight zone where everything is not quite right.  
  
Jarod explains. "I fudged a bit when I made your new birth certificate." His grin got bigger. "On the up side, your 6th birthday is tomorrow!"  
  
I shake my head. "I'm going back to bed... I must be delirious or something..." I say this with a smile on my face, and I'm clearly doing no such thing. Everything is going to be just fine.  
  
Author's Note: Yay, I finished! Okay, now I need some help.. I'd love to hear what y'all think, but I also would like to know what you think specifically about the ending. Personally I hate endings and I have the worst trouble trying to come up with one that I like... I still don't know what I think about this one... So comments and suggestions would be greatly appreciated! 


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